Red Sky
by InterfaceLeader
Summary: [Sequel to Last of an Elite] In the aftermath of Meteor, the survivors attempt to build themselves a new life from the rubble. But a Dragon is coming...
1. Prologue

**Red Sky**

**Prologue**

Midgar had fallen.

The ruins - a hazy, dust-shrouded graveyard - had faded to a distant shape on the horizon.

Shock had driven all previous loyalties and alliances from the heads of the survivors. The cataclysmic destruction, and the widespread madness and panic that had preceded it, was too much to think about. The tattered remains of the mutinying Shinra Forces trudged forlornly alongside the tattered remains of the rebellious slummers.

Pale in the watery autumn sunlight, the slummers were not in much of a position to appreciate their newfound freedom from the prison that had been the slums. Starving, cold, dirty and shell shocked, they walked east with the blank and uncomprehending faces of robots.

Within their massed ranks were knots of platers who had somehow survived both the carnage caused by the rebellion and the collapse of their city. Soft flesh and fragile temperaments were ill suited to the cold wind that blew from the Northern Ocean, and they too were pale and huddled looking. They clung to mementoes of their status as though they were religious trinkets: hugging golden jewellery, stroking silk ties and checking ID cards with the panicked faces of those who had always assumed bad things only happened to other people. Whilst the slummers were easily identified by their resigned expressions, the platers indulged in various forms of hysteria, denial and rage. From them came shrieks, moans and angry monologues denouncing terrorists, the government, scientists and rebellions.

They all continued to walk eastward, following the figure in front determinedly. To stop would have left them alone and lost in a harsh wilderness of monsters. No matter how bad things were or how much they despised their neighbours, they had to stay with the group.

At the head of the line and leading the ragged assortment of survivors, marched Reeve. He had recently become President of the remaining Midgar citizens and Shinra Forces, via a confused and explosive route of violence and accident. He led his enormous ragged band of dissident, rebellious and rapidly disintegrating refugees towards Kalm. He had no idea of what to do next. The survival of several million people would be impossible in a region famous for its rocky arid land and dry freezing winters. He doubted Kalm would be welcoming to the company that had sucked the life force from the ground and sold it back to them at crippling prices. Everyone in the world knew whom to blame for the recent events, and Reeve knew their one-time ally would be unwilling to aid them now.

Still, there was nowhere else to go. South lay poison, swamps and disease. West lay the barren, impassable Midgar mountain range. North there was only the icy, storm-tossed ocean.

And so the dirty, hungry wave of refugees poured east, to the cobbled streets, intricate houses and hilly farms of Kalm.

It would be there that a new era in the history of the Planet would begin.


	2. Luxury is a Waffle From Kalm

**Red Sky **

**Luxury is a Waffle from Kalm**

"That fuckin' bastard son-of-a-bitch storm! Look what its done to my fuckin' ship!" Cid's rant was interrupted by a rasping cough that brought up blobs of phlegm. Spitting contemptuously into the swamp that had swallowed the Highwind, he turned his diatribe onto Yuffie. "If you hadn't grabbed the controls like that, we would've landed right by the Chocobo Farm - what the fuck did you think you were doing, brat?"

"Leviathan damn your stupid airship! The way it was pitching and things were breaking off and - uggh! It makes feel sick just thinking about it!" Yuffie's voice was shrill. The remains of fear and nausea were still apparent in her face but were rapidly shifting into her usual expression of cheerful defiance. Grey eyes flashed with a mixture of sly humour and injured innocence, as she aimed deft punches at the grizzled pilot who berated her.

Cid swatted the attacks aside with a grunt of disgust. "She could've weathered the storm easily if you hadn't interfered! That was the pride and joy of the Shinra air force, hell the pride and joy of the whole Planet! The greatest airship ever built. And now she's sinking to the bottom of a pit of shit!"

"Aw, give it up already grandpa!" Yuffie snorted. Turning away from the pilot, she stretched happily in the sunlight. It was a crisp morning, with a brisk breeze that carried away most of the fetid stench of the swamp. The sky was a subtle blend of greys and watercolour blues, all the more pleasant to look at now that the burning glitch of Meteor no longer dominated. It overlooked the vast plains of Southern Midgar, fertile stretches of green and yellow that spread for miles before disappearing into the hazy horizon. Yuffie couldn't help but dance and laugh, giving vent to her natural exuberance.

"Don't you get it Cid? It's over! Sephiroth's gone, Midgar's gone, Shinra's gone - oh, what a beautiful morning! Oh, what a wonderful day!" she sang the lines of the song in an enthusiastic, if somewhat off key voice.

The two were the only ones awake. Cid had been too dismayed about the loss of his beloved Highwind to sleep and had crawled from his tent early that morning. He sucked hard on his cigarette, wondering whether anyone would notice if he pushed the Ninja girl into the swamp.

Yuffie had recovered from the battles and her airsickness with the elasticity of youth. Awakening that morning, she had felt a blessed sense of relief. Today would not be filled with endless battles, or the death of close friends. Today would be remarkably lacking in crazed madmen and evil corporate assassins. At least if she had anything to say about it.

There was a long sucking squelch from the swamp. Cid yelped, the cigarette falling from his mouth. "My baby! I knew a bit of mud couldn't hold you down!" He charged towards the sound, heedless of the mud that splattered over his boots and trousers.

"Hey! Dumbass, where you going?" Yuffie yelled from the shore, unwilling to follow him into the treacherous maze of clumped earth and rotting fungi. Hovering on the shore, she watched as Cid's rush carried him off solid ground and into one of the pools of sinking mud that could swallow up elephants without a trace. Cid floundered and cursed as he tried to scramble back onto the pathway, but the sticky molasses held him fast.

"Dammit Cid, why did ya have to be so stupid!" Yuffie advanced cautiously into the swamp, feeling out the path carefully. When she reached the struggling pilot, she held out a hand. "Give me the end of your spear! I'll pull you out!"

Cid reached round and pulled the weapon from his back. Dragging it through the mud, he attempted to hold out the wooden end to Yuffie, but as he did so it caught on something below the surface.

"Looks like dry ground," he grunted, and pushed the point down as hard as he could.

There was a bellowing scream and an explosion of mud. Cid shot into the air as a Midgar Zolom launched itself up from beneath him. Clinging to the spear with all his might, he realised that he had thrust it straight into the side of the great serpent's neck. As the Zolom coasted to a halt, its head far above ground, he kicked ineffectively at the air. Below him, Yuffie's eyes widened in shock as she looked up at the enormous mottled snake with Cid twisting and flailing with each ripple and bob of its body.

"I said you were a dumbass!" she screamed up at him. He shouted curses back at her, but she wasn't paying attention. Seizing the enormous shuriken she used as a weapon, she narrowed her eyes and focused entirely on the weaving, near drunken, movements of the Zolom.

For a moment she was compact and still, and then she unwound, flinging the shuriken directly up into the underside of the Zolom's long jaw. Blood sprayed as the four blades ripped through the muscles and tendons that operated the mouth, and the Zolom gaped in pain and dismay. Lashing out with its tail, it attempted to snatch her into its coils, but Yuffie rolled neatly out of the way and caught the returning shuriken. Flipping back onto her feet, she took aim once more and cast the weapon to where Cid's spear had already embedded itself into the serpent's throat. Ripping easily through the plated skin, arterial blood spurted from the wound. The Zolom reared, lashing the swamp into a froth of blood and mud. For a moment it hung screaming, flailing wildly in mid-air. Then, with a crash that sent waves rippling through the swamp in all directions, it landed on the pathway, dead.

With his feet able to find support, Cid yanked his spear from the dead serpent's neck, causing a fresh spray of blood. Using the long pole as a walking stick, he began striding from the swamp.

"Before that shockwave brings 'em all down on us," he said grimly. Yuffie nodded and hastened after him.

"Did I mention you were a dumbass?" she said conversationally as they made their way back up to the tents, dripping mud and snake blood with every step.

"Yeah, you did as a matter of fact," Cid growled in reply.

"Good. Because you are, you know."

"And you're a brat, you know that?"

"Yep."

"Well... good."

"Good."

They slumped sulkily next to their respective tents, and set about trying to clean themselves up. Yuffie was interrupted in her efforts by Tifa, who emerged from the tent they shared in a cascade of shiny dark hair, tanned supple skin and that subtle exotic perfume that always clung to her. Yuffie immediately felt small and childish, as though she had been caught making mud pies by her sensei. She flushed guiltily and looked at the mud they had tracked through the camp.

"Oh Yuffie! You're awake - and hurt?" Tifa looked at the blood and mud dripping off the slender figure of the ninja girl with immediate concern. "What happened?"

"Oh, I'm fine! A Midgar Zolom kidnapped Cid and I had to go rescue him." Yuffie said with exaggerated bravado. "Nothing I couldn't handle!"

"You didn't rescue me brat!" Cid roared from the other side of the camp. "I was more'n able to handle it!"

"You didn't look like you were handling it!"

There were groans from the other tents as the argument punctured the morning silence. Blinking sleepily, stretching stiff muscles and yawning as they crawled from their sleeping bags, two more members of Avalanche emerged into the fresh air.

Avalanche was a strange group. Thrown together from all across the Planet, their friendship had begun as an uneasy alliance against Shinra and Sephiroth but had gradually hardened into strong loyalty. Of the original terrorist group only Tifa and Barret remained. Tifa had the traditional dark colouring of a Nibelheim woman, along with the stocky, muscular build of one. Curvaceous and soft, with long thick hair and a gentle smile that was complimented by wide brown eyes, she reminded one of chocolate: silky smooth and irresistible. Stood next to the angular and energetic Yuffie, that impression was intensified.

Barret was also dark, with a brooding, angry expression on his face that never quite vanished. One tree trunk arm ended in an enormous fist that looked large enough to crush a man's head with one squeeze. The other ended in an enormous gun that had been grafted into his flesh. It was extremely heavy, but Barret brandished it as if it were a toy. He had a bullet head that was topped with short bristly hair and should have seemed too small for his widespread shoulders and chest, but was balanced by a lean waist and hips. Exaggerated and snarling, Barret was almost a stereotype of a muscle man, and yet he moved with the balance and grace of a dancer.

There had been Biggs, Wedge and Jessie, but they had been killed.

Tifa pulled Yuffie to her and began scrubbing at her face. Yuffie squirmed in her grasp, protesting volubly, and Barret snorted at her struggles.

"Yer look li' a gutter rat from th' slums! No one in their ri' minds would think yer a Wutain Princess!"

"Is Cloud around?" Tifa asked anxiously. The spiky haired warrior was unpredictable at the best of times, and might well have evaporated like morning dew.

"'e's still in th' tent," Barret gestured his gun arm towards the flap he had just appeared from. "Damn sleepy head!"

Tifa glanced from Cloud's tent to the one remaining tent and smiled as she saw Red XIII panting miserably in the heat. Normally a lean bristling animal with the power of a wolf and the grace of a cat, he wilted in any excess of heat. Sprawled across the grass with his tongue lolling from the corner of his mouth, the only remaining guardian of Cosmo Canyon looked as though he was about to melt. His tail twitched from side to side, the flame at the end barely visible.

"Alright, Red?" Tifa called over to him, "I've got some water here if you'd like some!"

Making a supreme effort, Red XIII lurched to his feet and staggered over to the woman, who poured water from a flask into a bowl. He lapped at it greedily, the muscles in his throat contracting as he gulped it down.

"Thank you, Tifa," he said in his thick growl when he had finished. "I needed that."

"Who's not awake yet?" Tifa glanced around the group. "Cloud... Vincent and Cait?"

"Vincent weren't in the tent when I woke up," Cid growled. "I figure the fucking Goth's done a runner."

Tifa frowned. "Maybe," she said. "I guess he didn't really have much reason to stay... still, you'd have thought he would've told us if he was going to do that."

"Cait is getting firewood," Red XIII said. "He will be back shortly."

"I'll start getting breakfast together," Tifa said cheerfully.

Yuffie glanced at her. "Another horrible camp breakfast? I wanna go to a restaurant!"

"Where th' hell we gonna find a restaurant out in the middle of th' plains?" Barret retorted.

Yuffie scowled. "Let's go someplace that has one! Let's go back to Wutai!"

"How?" Cid said. "The Highwind's gone, and it'd take us weeks to walk to Wutai without it! Stupid brat!"

"Ahh! Don't call me a brat! Let's go to the farm then!"

"The prices there are pretty high," murmured Tifa.

"Then we'll go to Kalm! I love their waffles!" Yuffie bounced to her feet. "Just please no more burnt sausages and beans!"

"I'll ask Cloud," Tifa stood up. "You go see if Vincent's anywhere in sight."

Yuffie shot off enthusiastically, leaving Tifa to walk over to the tent Cloud and Barret had shared. Pushing back the flap, she looked in hesitantly.

Cloud was lying in the sleeping bag, his hair rumpled and his fringe flopping down over one eye. A ray of sunlight from the flap put burnished gold and white highlights into his spikes, and bleached the colour from his cheek. One arm was thrust out from the sleeping bag and lay along the canvas floor of the tent. His muscles were not the pumped up bulges of Barret's, but flat, hard and wiry. His eyes were closed. His breath came slow and deep.

There was strain in his face. A deep crease had settled in the centre of his forehead as though he was permanently frowning, and there was tension in the muscles of his jaw.

"Cloud?" Tifa whispered, unwilling to wake him. She, more than anyone, knew the stress he had been under. His false memories and brainwashing. The battles, leading them inexorably towards the final showdown between him and Sephiroth. The eruption of the Lifestream, bringing with it the brief sight of Aerith.

He mumbled something and turned his head away from her.

"Cloud!" She said louder, knowing that Yuffie would be impatient.

"Uh... Tifa?"

He opened those uncanny eyes, a blue so sharp and bright it could chisel through granite. Even softened as they were now, with sleep, they could still run Tifa through. She stuttered nervously, her normally assured demeanour gone.

"Yuffie... I... ah, that is. We were wondering if you wanted to head to Kalm. Yuffie is pretty anxious for some real food."

"... Sure. I guess. What time is it?"

"About eleven or so. I think everyone wanted to sleep in."

"Doesn't surprise me... I half thought I'd wake up and find everything had been a dream." Cloud frowned, and sat up. "I still can't quite... is Meteor gone?"

"Yes... The sky is beautiful today."

"I wonder if... " Cloud shook his head. "Kalm you said?"

"Yes."

"Seems as good a place as any I guess," he rubbed a hand across his temples.

"Are you okay Cloud? You seem rather..."

"I'm fine." Cloud looked up quickly at Tifa and smiled. "Just feel a bit lost, that's all. We've been on one track for so long that I can't really get to grip with the idea that we can do whatever we want now."

"Yes," Tifa smiled back. "It does feel strange."

There was a silence. Cloud shifted uncomfortably in the sleeping bag, losing himself in thought.

"I guess I'll see you outside?" Tifa said uncertainly.

"Yeah... I... Tifa?"

She paused, silhouetted in the flap.

"Do you know what you want to do?"

She stood there for a while, looking at the tousled haired warrior. I want to marry you. I want us to go to a little town somewhere and live happily ever after. But she couldn't tell him that. Instead she smiled her gentle, sympathetic smile and said "I don't think any of us really have any long term plans at the moment. Maybe we should just focus on recovering."

He nodded and crossed his arms on top of his knees. She left him, returning to the rest of the group.

Staring out to sea, Vincent stood motionless.

There was a steady breeze, which caught the strands of hair that fell across his face and made them dance. It grabbed also at his cloak, but was unable to lift the heavy material. It settled for causing it to ripple hypnotically. In front of him, the waves mirrored the hypnotic movement, rising and falling and singing the quiet wild rhythms of the sea.

Vincent closed his eyes and smelt the brine in the air. The sharp under taste of salt, overlaid with layers of other, more mysterious scents.

His ears tuned to every baritone roar and every melodic splash that made up the ocean's song. He swayed with it, felt the rich chaotic harmony merge with the pulsing beat of his blood and slowly lost sense of everything except the feral music.

"Vincent!" Yuffie's voice shattered the spell and he spun to face the ninja girl. Pulling short his reflex draw of his pistol, he sighed.

"Yuffie."

"Man, I've been looking all over for ya! What'd you walk all the way out here for anyway?" She glanced at the thin strip of grey sand and pulled a face. "Jeez, you wanna go to a beach you go to Costa del Sol! Not this spit of nothing!"

"Anyway, Tifa says you gotta come back to camp so we can head over to Kalm and have some of their gorgeous waffles for breakfast! You ever had Kalm waffles? Man, they are the greatest! They drizzle this syrup over them too - oh yeah!"

"I shall return immediately." Vincent said mildly. He fell into step beside the chattering ninja.

"You know, now that all this is over, I'm gonna travel the world and try all the different restaurants! I used to eat the most brilliant meals back in Wutai, before I left to become a materia uh - ah - before I started collecting materia! Then I was living off bugs and frogs and nasty stuff like that for a while, and then I joined up with you guys and it's been like - camp food for sooo long! Don't you just get tired of sausages sometimes?"

"Indeed."

"I do! Which is why I wanted some decent food for a change - Godo took me to Kalm once, when I was about seven. He was on some political whatchamacallit, which meant he was away all day every day, so I just hung out with the kitchen staff at the hotel we were staying at! It was them who first let me eat the waffles, 'cause the rest of the time they fed us Wutain food as a gesture of, y'know, respect. Only it wasn't very good because they didn't really know how to do it properly. So I used to not bother eating much of the meals, and just eat in the kitchen afterwards. All the proper Kalm stuff, y'know?"

"Quite."

"What kind of food do you like Vincent? Oh gee - since you're old I bet you had all the traditional Wutain stuff from before they had Mako powered cookers! Like - like - ooh, did you ever eat any of the Tabemono Sutairu no aru Hitobito before it got banned?"

"Hmm... I was only an infant when the ban was put in place, but there was a small restaurant in Midgar that specialised in Hitobito style food. I couldn't speak for its authenticity, but it was certainly very pleasant."

"Is it true all their food is really, really spicy?"

"Not all, but a fair amount is. They believe that the spicier a food is, the closer it becomes to the food of Ryuu-hi. Red pepper is sacred to them, for it is the essence of the fire dragon's breath - according to legend."

"I wanna eat some!"

"You might be hard pressed to find anyone who remembers the recipes - the restaurant in Midgar was the only place I knew of, and that was years ago." Vincent frowned. "Even if it had still existed, I doubt it would have survived last night."

Yuffie pulled a face. "I'm glad Midgar is gone! Shinra was mean and stupid!"

"You're not entirely wrong, but still... Midgar was not just Shinra. It was in some ways a more diverse representation of the world's ethnic traditions that many of the towns the cultures originated in."

"Huh?"

"What I mean is... as Shinra gradually expanded their empire by introducing Mako power into all the cities and towns of the Planet, they also homogenised the culture of those places. Wutai is the most blatant example, for they turned their traditions into a tourist attraction. By allowing their beliefs to assume a shoddy and fake exterior, they soon forget what originally inspired them. But in Midgar, Wutain refugees held onto their beliefs and continued to follow the traditions as they had always followed them." Vincent raised the metal claw that had once been his right hand and flicked a strand of hair from his face. "With some adaptations of course, to allow them to assimilate into Midgar - but still truer than those in their home towns."

"I sort of get it... but it was Shinra's fault Wutai turned into a silly tourist resort! So who cares if Midgar is gone? We'll soon go back to the proper way of life!"

Vincent looked down at the skinny girl beside him and sighed inwardly. Of course she wasn't to know of the seamy underside of Wutai's 'traditional' way of life. He did, and shuddered at the memory of it.

"Hey, there's the camp!" Yuffie broke into a run when she saw the tents appear. Vincent followed more slowly.

"I found him! I found him! Can we go now?" Yuffie yelled. The entire of Avalanche had gathered outside and were busy packing up the tents, sleeping bags, and general equipment of a large camp.

"Don't be impatient," growled Red XIII around a mouthful of tent peg.

"I'm starving! C'mon!" Yuffie danced round the group, hopping over guy ropes and sidestepping piles of torches, ropes, food and flasks. Cid thrust out his spear and tripped her up, sending her flying into a half-collapsed tent and knocking it over in a billow of canvas.

"You want your fucking breakfast, then bloody well help us pack!"

The refugees swamped Kalm.

Kalm was a pleasant, homey town that had co-existed with the sprawling urban mess that had been Midgar for as long as anyone could remember. It was the kind of place Shinra employees retired to, and the kind of place that teenagers left to make their fortune elsewhere. It had a range of family-owned businesses and a few small farms that could be run with four or five people. The only thing that looked out of place was the Mako reactor that had been built in the centre - a shining edifice of slick metal surfaces and stencilled letters

Stood amongst cobbled streets and trellised houses, it had gradually taken on a derelict air. Weeds thrust up through the ground around it, and an old tire leant against one shiny surface. There was no rubbish, as Kalm prided itself on its community services program, where every bored and frustrated teenage vandal would find themselves spending long hours with a bin bag and a litter-picker.

It had become the central focus point for a sea of refugees. Attracted by its familiar shape and the insistent ozone smell of Mako, both the slummers and the platers had battled for prime positions near it. It smelled of home.

Now the square in which it stood was filled with bobbing dirty faces of every shade human skin could be. The strange hum of a several thousand voices carrying out different conversations hung over them, a babble of different accents and languages merging into one insistent melodic rise and fall.

To Vincent, it sounded a lot like the sea.

They had arrived to find the outskirts of Kalm a mud pit of people who hadn't had the power or need to fight for a place in the square. The old, the sick, the young and those loyal to them had entrenched themselves in the areas around the outer buildings. They had overrun farmlands, destroying fields of crops. Many had stumbled into an orchard and the trees had instantly been stripped bare of their fruit. The farmhands and orchard workers had fled mutely from the horde.

Avalanche had made their way, wide-eyed, through the mud and people. They stood now, overlooking the massed ranks that had congregated around the reactor. There was no way to penetrate the crowd. The square had been packed tighter than a sardine can, bodies pressed so closely together they formed a solid, impenetrable wall of flesh.

"Shiva..." Tifa said weakly, the first word any of them had uttered since arriving.

"I guess there won't be any waffles," Yuffie said sadly.

Red XIII stirred uneasily. He felt the oppressive weight of the throng far more from his lower perspective, and his nose had been rendered useless by the overwhelming smell of human sweat. He didn't want to think what could happen if they panicked and stampeded. He would be crushed: a hideous death by trampling.

"They must all be from Midgar," Cloud said resignedly.

Cid leant heavily on his spear. "Damn straight. Must be... hell, must be more than a million here."

"The population of Midgar ran into the billions," Tifa said.

"Even if only a tiny proportion survived... that's still a lot of people." Cloud went as though to massage his temples, but caught himself. "They'll probably starve to death."

"We can't let tha' happen!" Barret roared, immediately incensed. "These poor buggers ain't done nothin' to deserve starvation! Most of 'em are from th' slums! We gotta help them!"

"I agree," Tifa said wretchedly, "But how? We can't just produce a load of food from nowhere! We don't even have the Highwind anymore."

Cloud stared at the mob. He was incredibly tired. Every muscle ached and his head was a throbbing mass of pain and had been since Tifa had awoken him from his uneasy, dream filled sleep. He supposed that this was a side effect of Sephiroth's death. He had been linked to the silver haired psychopath, however unknowingly, and his death had probably caused all kinds of weird responses.

He was aware that he had been exposed to more Mako over the past five years than anybody else on the Planet. His memories had been scrambled, all his circuits put under the influence of Jenova's son. He had battled mechanical monstrosities, mad scientists, entire armies of Shinra Guards, assassins, and random wild beasts. He had taken an emotional battering: he still hadn't fully come to terms with Aerith's death, nor taken stock of his confused conflict of emotions over Tifa. He had climbed glaciers, explored wild forests that had been shut off from humans for centuries and braved ancient temples.

He felt that he deserved a break.

For a moment he swayed, desperate to give into his exhaustion and just walk away from it all.

Then he took a deep breath, straightened and looked around at his companions. "We don't have the Highwind, but we do have the Chocobos. Tifa, you'll come with me. We're going to ride to Junon. We can use their resources to organise aid. They'll be far better equipped than Kalm to handle this sort of influx. Cait?"

The robotic cat leaped to attention. "Yes sir!"

"Can you find Reeve?"

Cait Sith leaned his head to one side considering. His crown slipped crookedly over one huge ear. "I'm not sure, I lost all contact with him when Midgar fell. But I can sure try!"

"Good. We're going to need him. Barret and Cid, I want you to recruit as many people as possible. We're going to need organisers. I don't care if they're Shinra or whatever; we need fighters and people able to keep the peace. This is a riot waiting to happen. Get everyone formed into groups; make them feel like they're doing something useful! Building shelters, fires, collecting wood - that sort of thing."

"You want me to recruit Shinra bastards?" Barret snarled.

"Yes." Cloud's intense stare met Barret's glower head on. For a moment the two stood locked in a battle of wills, but it was Barret who looked aside first.

"Fine."

"Good. Yuffie, Vincent and Red. You three will go hunting and foraging. Anything edible, get it to Reeve so he can distribute it. Got it?"

Yuffie pulled off a complex and snappy salute, accidentally smacking Cid's arm in the process. "Sir, yes sir!"

"Immediately," Red said, swishing his tail from side to side. He welcomed the chance to get away from the bombardment of human sound and smell.

"Good. Let's mosey!"

Avalanche broke apart. Cait urged his moogle steed into the square. The stuffed exterior stood no chance, but the metal structure rammed its way through the tightly packed throng with the power of a small bulldozer. Barret and Cid headed away from the square, into the less dangerous outskirts of the town. Yuffie, Vincent and Red raced away from the town altogether, aiming for the grassy plains they had just come from. Tifa fell into step beside Cloud, as he took up a steady march that would devour the miles to the Chocobo Farm where Cloud kept his most successful crossbreeds.

"How are you going to convince Junon to help us?" Tifa asked, as Kalm receded into the distance. "It will still be run by Shinra, won't it?"

"Most likely," Cloud said. "But I'm pretty certain they'll listen. With Midgar gone... an army needs a leader Tifa. Otherwise it just falls apart."

"I guess."

They marched in silence for a while, as the sun began to slide slowly from its zenith. It was a golden afternoon, the air rich with the smells of autumn. A bustling wind, coming in fits and spurts, swiftly dried the sweat raised from their steady jog and took the worst of the afternoon heat away. When the tiny dot of the Farm appeared on the horizon, Tifa spoke again.

"They're still Shinra though... our enemies."

Cloud frowned, but didn't reply. Tifa continued.

"I mean, consider what they're responsible for. Can we really forget that and join sides with them?"

"Shinra isn't evil."

"... What do you mean? They dropped the plate - "

"Shinra didn't," Cloud interrupted. "A couple of members of Shinra did. I think... I think most people joined up because it was the only way forward. They didn't know. And even the people that did carry out the worst of Shinra's plans... most of the time they were only following orders anyway." Cloud frowned. "The people who are really responsible are the ones who made the plans... everyone else just trusted in them, or just assumed they would take the responsibility."

"People shouldn't follow orders like that!"

Cloud shrugged. "They couldn't know. Maybe they thought it was for a greater good. Maybe they were just afraid. But we can't hate every single last member of Shinra... not when most of them never did anything worse than guard duty."

Tifa shook her head. "I don't think so. They all helped keep Shinra going, and that's evil in my opinion."

Cloud shrugged. "Maybe. But then... everyone who wasn't actively trying to topple Shinra was indirectly aiding them. Are you going to say Avalanche are the only good people on the Planet?"

"Of course not! But there's a big difference between a slum dweller forced into thievery just to survive, and a guard whose job it is to shoot people who try to trespass into a power company!"

"Is there?"

"Yes!"

"Suppose someone became a guard to escape the slums? It's just about survival. It always is." Cloud felt his head throb, and sighed.

"There's more to life than just surviving. There's love and kindness and doing good... saving the world."

"Sometimes I think that all of that is just..."

"What?"

A pause.

"Surviving."


	3. Killer Puppy Dog Eyes

**Red Sky **

**Killer Puppy Dog Eyes**

Wind swept through her hair and sent it streaming behind her. The chocobo devoured the land with great bouncing strides, leaping up the side of the mountain with barely even a check in pace. Its claws, longer and sharper than most chocobos, dug easily into the rock and enabled it to climb the impossibly sheer surfaces. Its glossy black feathers reminded her of oil, flickering constantly with green and blue highlights. Cloud had bred it, but given it to her after he'd managed the insanely beautiful and perfect Gold Chocobo.

He'd called it Black Thunder, but she'd renamed it Chief Runningham.

Cloud had easily outdistanced her on the Gold - which he'd named Kiniro, but she's always secretly thought of as Thirty-Two Carat - disappearing in a shiny cloud of dust and feathers with a shout of "see you there!"

Chief Runningham topped the Midgar Mountain and shot down the other side with a squawk of surprise. They picked up speed, Tifa shouting with exultation, the chocobo with its wings outspread and almost taking off.

She saw the figure emerge from the ground in front of her, but barely had time to blink before the chocobo collided with it, tumbling over in a crash of feathers and outraged cries. She threw herself sideways, away from the rolling body of the huge bird. The wild grasses cushioned her fall, and she bounced immediately back to her feet, assuming a wary half-crouch. When she saw the person she had run down, her eyes narrowed.

"Turk."

Rude picked his sunglasses up and cleaned them on his shirt, unflustered. Despite herself, Tifa tried to see directly into his face. She had never seen him without his blank mask that showed only reflections. He kept his head bent however, and she hadn't managed to see his eyes before he replaced the glasses and stood up.

"Tifa."

From the opening into the Mythrill Mines came Elena, pale and wan. She moved with a hunched cautiousness and her large eyes were stark and distant. If it hadn't been for the image of Sector Seven floating across her memory Tifa would have pitied them.

"What are you doing here?" she demanded.

"Running." Rude's voice was utterly flat, as always.

"Running? From what?"

"From starvation. Disease."

The minimum amount of words he could get away with, she thought. Simple and concise, but they brought back the faces of the refugees with startling clearness. The sallow flesh and pitiful looks in their eyes. And these two had chosen to run. A spurt of anger drove away all thoughts of sympathy.

"You chose to run rather than help?" Tifa tossed her head back, shaking her hair away from her face and clenched her fists. Her gloves were set with materia stones that lined her wrists with their hard sheen. Neither Turk took up a defensive stance. Elena gave a weary sigh and closed her eyes, deep furrows lining her brow. Rude merely stood there. She could see herself reflected in those dark glasses, her fists up, a furious expression on her face. Then she saw in those reflections one of the materia stones start to glow. Two shiny red marks, one in each lens. She gaped blankly, and then looked down at her wrists.

The Shiva materia she wore, set right against her pulse, glowed with energy. Red light shuddered frantically inside it, flickering and flaring in a panicky insistence.

"What...?"

The two Turks watched her. She felt suddenly disarmed. She knew she could deal with them both in a fight, but not if her materia suddenly started acting up.

"You depend too much on it," Elena observed suddenly. "Could you still fight if it wasn't enhancing you?"

"Of course I could," Tifa retorted angrily. "I never even saw materia until I met Barret the first time." She pulled off the gloves and tossed them over Chief Runningham's back. There the red light faded to a haphazard glimmer. Bare-fisted, Tifa resumed her fighters stance. She was surprised at how vulnerable she felt without the support materia boosting her energy and endurance.

Rude nodded, thoughtfully.

"A slightly more even fight," Elena leant back against the rocky wall, and crossed her arms. It was clear she did not intend to join in. Tifa allowed herself to focus entirely on Rude.

He had also brought his fists up, muscles bunching in his arms as he waited for her attack. He still wore the fingerless leather gloves of the Turks, though they were battered and dirty looking. She could read nothing of his emotions. Was he afraid or angry? Would he be more likely to concentrate on defending or attacking? Unconsciously she fell into the trancelike state Zangan had taught her. The whys of the battle fell away, and only the fight itself, pure and unfettered, existed.

He attacked fast and sudden, a low left jab towards her stomach. She twisted to the right and kicked out at his side. Her foot connected solidly, and she felt the thrill of scoring the first hit before he grabbed her ankle and threw her into the ground. She rolled away and up, blocking two punches and dodging a third. She missed the speed that a Haste materia could give her, was relying too much on waiting for a gap she could exploit. Driving into him, she dealt a quick succession of blows, most of them blocked but a couple breaking through. They did not do much damage, executed with speed rather than strength and Rude didn't appear to even notice them.

Back-flipping, she put a sizeable gap between them and they cautiously started circling each other. Elena watched with interest as they moved round and round, Tifa's eyes locked on her opponent. Elena would have had an easy opportunity to take out the woman, but she remained where she was.

Tifa broke the circling first, sweeping in low with her right fist and then smashing Rude's face with the left as he went to block. There was a crunch as glass shattered beneath the blow, and Tifa jumped back. Rude shook his head and the mangled sunglasses fell away. Elena cried out, and they all froze.

Then Rude loosed a punch so fast Elena didn't even see it. Tifa was laid flat, her nose a sudden fountain of blood. She was up immediately, making no move to stem the blood. Rude had dropped his fighting stance.

"Enough," he said in a voice like lead.

"No." Tifa spat back, with a viciousness that surprised Elena. "Craven scum like you doesn't deserve mercy or reprieve! We fight until I kill you!"

Rude spread his arms. "... then kill me..."

For a moment Tifa teetered, anger spasmodically working her face. Then she snorted and spun on her heel, striding over to the black chocobo and mounting it in one fluid motion. The bird must have sensed her fury, for it shot away even faster than it had arrived, leaving the two figures dwindling into the distance. The earlier jubilation of riding had been swept away in the tidal wave of resentment the Turk had brought. She tasted blood, and realised her nose was still bleeding. A quick swig from a potion healed the wound. The green liquid also calmed her thoughts somewhat, and she had a sudden memory of her spry grey haired tutor. The body and the mind are inextricably linked. Change one and you change the other.

She slowed the chocobos pace, and looked at the potion bottle. A cheap plastic thing. Different shops had different ways of storing the healing liquid, some prettier than others. This container was strictly utilitarian.

What was in it? What was in the different liquids she had got so quickly in the habit of using? They were sold everywhere, of course. And used by many to cure wounds and alleviate pain. If there was anything harmful in it, it would have shown up by now.

She frowned.

Of course, she reflected, she didn't really use simple potions for much anymore. The odd bruise, perhaps. Wounds she barely even noticed. The aptly named high-potions, x-potions and mega-potions were used far more often by their group. These were rarer, stronger versions of the healing drink. She often suspected that the reason potions were so cheap and plentiful was that they were merely watered down versions of their potent brothers.

Feeling vaguely disquieted, she tucked the empty bottle away and rode on towards Junon. The issue wasn't potions, it was the Turks. She couldn't explain the rush of emotions that had poured over her when she had smashed Rude's glasses. At first elation, a sense of triumph at breaking the mask. And then shock, as she had stared at him. And then anger.

She didn't know why the anger. They had been ordinary eyes. Ordinary brown eyes. Ordinary brown eyes, drowning in the shadows of pain and loss.

How dare he? How dare a killer like him have eyes like that?

Ahead of her, Junon suddenly came into view. Hidden away in a hollow of the land, built up against the cliff face, it was easy to miss its dull-brown, squatting shape. Without its canon, the whole fortress seemed to sink down into itself.

Chief Runningham slowed to a walk as they entered the decrepit fishing village that sat around and below the vast metal military base. He snuffed and squawked in annoyance as the smell of fresh and rotting fish, salt, oil and Mako smoke assailed his beak. Tifa patted the birds feathered neck comfortingly as she slipped off. The village was silent, not even a dog or cat running the streets. The only living creature in sight was Kiniro, tied up next to Priscilla's house-on-stilts. Tifa led Chief Runningham over to her, and they laid their heads together. Black over gold, chirping soft noises of encouragement to each other as they nuzzled. Tifa smiled at the image and then went in search of Cloud.

She found him outside the lift door, looking disgruntled. He didn't look as if he'd had much luck.

"The village is deserted," he announced. "There's no power in the lift - I can't even open the doors to this thing," he indicated the metal doors angrily. "Yet there's no real damage anywhere, just a few smashed windows and torn up fences - most likely from the storms. Where by Odin could they have gone?"

"Perhaps they fled to Costa del Sol?"

"Nobody would take a boat during that!" Cloud slammed his fist against the doors in frustration.

Tifa looked out at the sea. It was stony grey, flat and unyielding. The only froth lay still and dirty, like the left over suds in a washing-up bowl.

"The underwater reactor?"

There was a pause, and Cloud looked thoughtful.

"Yes... that might explain the power loss as well. We still need to get in though, and I don't think the dolphin's around."

"Hmm," Tifa studied the thick metal doors. "Maybe we could climb up?"

"I don't think so... nothing to hold onto."

"What about the chocobos?"

Cloud glanced at her, and then over to where the two birds petted each other. He studied them for a moment, and then the bronze walls next to him.

"It won't be easy but... how much harder than a mountain can it be?" He grinned at Tifa, "Good thinking!"

She smiled back, pleased. They mounted the chocobos, and pointed them towards the sheer hard slopes of the Junon fort. Kiniro threw back her head and made a noise that sounded a lot like laughter. Then they rode.

Kiniro hit the wall first, her massive clawed feet scrabbling to find purchase on the slick surface, before her talons sank into the metal. Her speed was enough to manage the rest; she hurtled up the wall scoring deep furrows as she went. Chief Runningham followed the trail, using the grooves Kiniro had created for his own footholds. They topped the wall and landed easily on the tarmac road the other side.

Tifa's eyes went wide.

"By Shiva..."

Dead Shinra Guards and Soldiers sprawled everywhere, hanging over the railings, slumped by walls. Blood splattered over everything, great brown tracks of it spread behind Guards who had obviously tried to crawl along the road before dying. Flies gorged themselves, swarming over wounds and faces. Tifa recalled another blood splattered massacre of Shinra Guards and shuddered. Sephiroth's attack on the Shinra Building had created devastation much like this.

"I... I guess the rebellion spread this far?"

Cloud knotted his brow, clearly puzzled. "I don't think so. These people don't look like they've been shot. And besides... if it had been a rebellion there would've been some survivors."

"Then... what?"

"I don't know."

They left the chocobos by the rail and explored further into the fort. Here there were the remains of what looked like a hurried defence by the Guards, a knot of men lying back-to-back, a few still clasping their weapons. For the most part though, it had been a stampede towards the exits, being cut down on the way.

"Caltrops," Cloud pointed to the spiky balls scattered across a hallway. "I guess that means it wasn't some monster."

Tifa didn't reply. She had just seen a smashed in shop door, with bodies lying amidst the wreckage beyond. Civilian shopkeepers, rather than Shinra Guards.

"Not just an enemy of Shinra." Cloud said quietly.

"What could have happened? Some effect of - of Meteor, Holy or the Lifestream perhaps?"

"Perhaps," Cloud didn't sound convinced. "Let's try the underwater reactor. Some might have fled there."

The corridor leading to the lift was thick with the dead. The sickly smell of blood and decay hung in the air, choking Tifa and making her eyes water. She wanted out of this death trap.

The lift door had half-closed on the operators body. She lay staring up at the ceiling, her face wracked with fear. Cloud moved her as gently as he could, but her limbs had stiffened and she twisted like a doll as he dragged her free of the door.

"This lift works from a separate power supply," Cloud told Tifa as they entered. "Everything else is run from the reactor, but if the reactor broke down this would be the only way down to repair it."

He pushed the button and there was a hum as the doors closed. A lurch, and then they descended.

Elena lifted the shattered sunglasses and gave Rude a helpless look. The lenses were smashed beyond repair, and the frame had twisted into a grotesque shape. Tifa's strength was phenomenal, considering she hadn't been boosted by any materia.

"I don't think I can fix them," she said apologetically. The other Turk shrugged, and took the remains from her, tucking them carefully into his shirt pocket.

"... never mind..." he said.

"Do we carry on to Junon?" Elena asked, "I think that's where Tifa was headed."

"... yes..." Rude fell into the ground devouring march he must have picked up in the Shinra Guards. Elena fell in beside him, hating the silence, but having lost any cheery conversation to fill it with. The empty plains drifted by, marred only by the dust of their march. She watched the cloud of silt rise up with each step of Rude's, and drift back down, only to be disturbed again when her foot hit it. Her trouser legs were stained with dirt and sweat.

When Junon appeared on the horizon, a dark dot in the bright noon sunshine, shadowed by cliffs, Elena sighed. She didn't want to deal with people. She didn't want to carry on walking either. She didn't want to do anything, except curl up in a corner somewhere, and nurse the tight knot of loss that cramped her stomach and constricted her throat and made the silence press down on her head like a vice.

Rude didn't even pause though, and she continued to follow him blankly. He was her last link, albeit an uncommunicative one, to the past.

The village was shadowy and abandoned. The lift doors were unmoveable, and as far as Elena could see there was no other way into the fortress. She had no energy to spare for making suggestions, or coming up with ideas. She just looked toward Rude.

"...we'll stay on the beach..." he said, his eyes turned away. She nodded.

The beach was grey, scalloped into soft curves by the tide. A few bits of seaweed poked up desultory heads here and there, but otherwise it was a featureless scene. Elena slid down to sit cross-legged on the sand, and stared out to sea. Her hair whipped across her face in the wind.

"..." Rude sat next to her, his large shape overshadowing her smaller form. There was a long silence.

Gradually, with nothing but the insistent sloshing of the sea to disturb her, all the thoughts Elena had been ignoring began to bubble up in her head. She tried to envision a future in a wild world. A world without Shinra. She imagined herself wandering from village to village, lacking any purpose or meaning except survival. Would she follow Rude forever, his silence becoming accepted, until they both moved without speaking? Mechanical people, doomed to appease nothing but their baser instincts, forgetting all the pleasures of conversation and communication?

She missed Reno desperately. His constant irreverent humour could be annoying, but she couldn't think of anything she wanted more right now than for his drawling tone to make some sarcastic witticism, or make some completely unneeded and pointless observation. She would even be over the moon to hear some nasty comment directed at her.

He had died to save them. She knew that, and she felt ashamed, guilty somehow. He had thought they were worth dying for, despite all his displays of not caring for anything other than himself. She didn't feel worth dying for. She felt stupid and hopeless, lost in a suddenly harsh and uncivilised planet.

"You really are useless, Elena," she whispered to herself, and felt tears sting the corners of her eyes.

"No." Rude's voice came, flat and distant. "You're not."

"I am... I should have been able to help him somehow! He died for Midgar, Rude! He died a hero, believing he was a villain! He didn't deserve that! Everything he did was Hojo's fault, not his! He shouldn't have died Rude! He shouldn't have!"

"... everybody dies." Rude turned his head away from her; all she could see was his broad, well-muscled back. "... everybody dies... he's part of the Lifestream now."

"Is that all you can say? He was your best friend Rude! He was too young to go to the Lifestream!" All of her loss sudden coalesced into searing anger. It was almost a relief; at least she could do something about anger. She leapt to her feet. "You don't care do you? You don't care about anything! Tseng is dead, Reno is dead, Shinra is gone and you just sit there like a goddamn robot! So what if 'everybody dies'? That doesn't make it right or fair when friends die before they're supposed to!" A shudder ran through her. "He didn't ever get to be happy! Growing up in the slums, poor and starving! Then immediately being brainwashed into a faithful Shinra assassin! And then being forced to live through every bit of guilt he never felt before! And then dying horribly by Meteor! And all you can say is 'everybody dies'? You heartless uncaring bastard!"

"... Elena ... don't..."

"Don't what? Don't you pretend to be hurt! I've had it with you and all your - your silences and monotonous statements!" Her voice broke up on the last words, as she spun on her heel and marched away. Sobs jerked from her, tearing through her body and convulsing it.

Rude watched her go, a dwindling point of blue against the sand. And then she was gone, vanished into the haze. He closed his eyes, feeling his jaw clench tightly.

"... that's not what I meant..." he muttered. "... by Odin, that's not what I meant at all... I was just trying to help Elena, I swear...that's not what I meant!"

Sandy stood in the tunnel, watching the fish swim past. Her eyes were red with exhaustion, and she felt like collapsing right there. But she clutched her gun and forced herself to watch the tunnel for intruders. The shadows of the flowing currents caused her to shiver in remembered dread. Shadows could hold anything. Flashing swords, cutting through her companions as though they weren't there. Long slivers of steel underfoot, tearing through boots and skin to send you staggering headlong into ambush. Her terror kept her awake, for now at least.

Not that she could do much if they came. It was pure luck that she had survived where others had fallen. One guard would be hopeless against that tide of deadly skill and confidence.

She wondered who they had been. The attackers had been clothed in black, even to the faces. If you got close enough to see their eyes you were already dead. She had a vague feeling they were quite small, short and lithe, but that may have been an illusion created by their uncanny camouflage skills. A brief thought of demons stirred unpleasantly in her mind and she squashed it instantly. You could go mad chasing thoughts like that.

Suddenly she became aware of footsteps approaching down the tunnel. They were muffled, a whisper of boot against floor just on the edge of hearing. Her back tensed, and sweat began slipping down her face. Her finger was sticky on the trigger.

Then he turned the corner, she caught a brief impression of spiky blond hair and bare arms but her finger had already clenched.

The stranger - familiar looking - had thrown himself to one side. The bullets ricocheted off the curve of the wall and grounded themselves in the floor. Sandy jerked the gun back to aim at the blond, but another figure leapt round the corner and bounced into a handspring that flipped her right over Sandy's head. Strong arms grasped her, and the gun clattered to the floor.

"Thanks Tifa," the blond strolled up to her and cocked his head, appraising her thoughtfully. Sandy found herself staring into two Mako-fired eyes, stormy bright blue pools. The pupils were rimmed with a dark halo of violet, the irises with diamond hard blue. She had seen such extreme mutation in only one other man. Sephiroth, elite warrior and merciless killer. She shuddered, but held on to her courage.

"You're... Avalanche, aren't you?" she said, with a calmness she didn't feel. The man raised an eyebrow, and gave a self-deprecating grin. It looked strange with those eyes.

"I'm Cloud. I'm with Avalanche, yeah. That's Tifa behind you, she's been with them longer than me." The grin faded and he looked more serious. "Are there many survivors?"

She shook her head, realising he must have walked through the aftermath of the slaughter. Did that mean the attackers had gone? She sincerely hoped so.

"Very few military personnel, mainly civilians. A few went on submarines to look for help. The rest are waiting at the docks. Have you come from Midgar?"

"Yes," Cloud replied. "And there's no good news from there, either. We came to ask for Junon's help. But... do you know who they were?"

"Not a clue," she replied bleakly. No reinforcements from Midgar. She hadn't contemplated that. She had thought it was a matter of holding out until help came. Now it appeared to be a matter of holding out indefinitely.

"Any news from across the sea? Costa del Sol, Cosmo Canyon...?"

A flash of anger came into her eyes. "They came from the sea. We saw their boats the morning before the attack, but they went down the coast. The boats were so old and rickety we thought they were refugees. Then that night they just... overwhelmed us. We've had double the guards on since Holy, and still they took us like we were nothing! The Junon fort was... broken. It protects the channel no longer."

"So these people could come across at any time? Or... they may still be on this continent?" Tifa asked. Sandy glanced at the woman. Brown haired, brown eyed. Pretty in an average, not particularly out standing way.

"They could be anywhere," she replied, shortly. And rubbed a gloved hand across her eyes. Adrenaline had died away and left her feeling more exhausted than ever before.

She felt the other two draw away and confer in in whispers. She didn't really care. The realisation that Midgar was gone was sinking into her. She had never been there, but she had always thought of it with pride. The capital of the world, the gem in Shinra's crown. Junon had existed to protect Midgar, and without it was useless. A scrap heap. And the guards who had existed only to protect Junon were also useless. More scrap. Her legs suddenly gave way, and she slid down the curved plastic wall of the tunnel. Outside the cold oceans shimmied in their endless tides, in a world where Shinra had risen and fallen like a single sunrise and sunset.

Blackness fell on her like a wave, and she gave herself up to oblivion.

Cloud glanced back to where the guard had crumpled to the floor, and groaned.

"We should go back to Midgar," Tifa said. "There's no help for us here."

"I don't know," Cloud replied. He felt there was something obvious he was missing. He stared at the clear plastic wall. Outside fish danced in multicoloured arrays. He remembered how sick he had felt when he had first climbed into a submarine, and grimaced. He sympathised with Yuffie's plight, but wished she hadn't grabbed the controls like. He could really have done with the Highwind.

"Cloud, these people are in worse shape than we are. If those attackers come back, then - "

"Fish... " Cloud stared at the water. Tifa gave him a blank look, and followed his gaze.

"Fish?" she said questioningly.

"Fish. And the shops must still be full. It's not food they're short of, it's people! And Odin knows we have more than enough people to go round."

"How are we going to get them here?" Tifa said sceptically. "Chocobo's can only carry three at most, and that won't make any sort of dent in the numbers we have. Walking would take far too long, especially without food..."

Cloud frowned. "There has to a way. If only we had the Highwind!"

"I wonder how long it takes to build another one..."

"Too long, I should think. But..." Cloud stared into the distance. "With Reeve and Cid together... surely they could figure out some sort of... system to get the Highwind out of the swamp?"

"What do you mean?"

"The swamps can't be that deep, and the Highwind is pretty damn big. I bet it isn't that far below the surface. There must be a way to get it back up!"

"It's worth a try I suppose," Tifa said. And glanced to where Sandy had fallen. "You head back. I'll wait until she wakes up, and explain what's going on."

"I'll see you later," Cloud agreed. Tifa watched him stride out of sight, and then went to sit by the guard with a sigh.

Vincent watched the three small elephants from the vantage point of the grassy knoll. They hadn't noticed him, content to rip swathes of grass from the ground and stuff it into their mouths. He had read in histories that elephants had once been massive beasts that travelled in herds that could easily eat paths through forests. With the "civilising" impact of man, the forests had long since gone and left plains in their wake. And the elephant had shrunk to the side of a large dog.

He drew his gun; even a tiny elephant would provide some meat. And three... he took careful aim.

"Hyaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!" Yuffie leapt from nowhere into the centre of the group, her shuriken whizzing in a complicated pattern. One elephant fell to the ground with a trumpeting wail. The other two took off at speed. Vincent shot hastily, and one staggered but then resumed its run, trumpeting loudly as blood ran from its side.

He closed his eyes in frustration as Yuffie whooped excitedly over her kill.

"Look Vinny!" she shouted up to him. "I got one! Haha! And you missed!"

He holstered his gun, and glared at her. Any normal person would have wilted with those angry red eyes focused on them, but Yuffie was seemingly oblivious.

"I think you must be getting old, huh?" she grinned wickedly, her eyes sparkling. "Time to think about retiring, eh? Now your eyesight's going?"

He debated shooting her, but decided against it. Turning his back, he scanned the horizon, looking for tell tale dust clouds that might signify prey. The moon shed more than enough light for his super attenuated senses to use. His ears twitched, straining for noise. He thought he could hear the sea, far away.

"Hey Vinny? Will you take this back to Reeve for me?"

"No," he replied shortly. A breeze had caught at his cloak, rippling the heavy folds.

"Why not?" Yuffie asked, sounding injured. "I need to go hunt some more!"

"Take it back yourself," he replied. Was that an eddy of dust? He shaded his eyes.

"Aww, Vincent! Please? I hate carrying them back, it's boring!" Yuffie leant against the fallen beast. "Whatcha looking at? More of these things?"

"I don't know," he said, this time irritation creeping into his voice. He didn't understand how a so-called Ninja could be so loud.

"Can I catch 'em with you?" she climbed up beside him and frowned in the direction of his stare. "I don't see anything."

"It's coming this way."

They waited, Yuffie fidgeting impatiently. As the dust came closer, Vincent narrowed his eyes and made out a small blue shape, marching swiftly.

"I see it! I see it!" Yuffie yelped, and he hissed exasperatedly.

"Be quiet, or they will hear you."

She fell silent. As the figure came ever closer Vincent was able to make out more details. Blond hair, disarrayed by the wind. A rumpled and dirty navy suit, a slim female form and a very angry expression that seemed on the verge of collapsing into tears.

"It's Elena," he said quietly.

"Let's kill her," Yuffie suggested, just as quietly.

"Let's not."

"I think we should. She hit Cloud, and she was a Turk."

"That doesn't mean we should kill her."

"But !"

"Be quiet."

Elena was almost upon them before she raised her eyes. She blinked at the unexpected sight, and then a grim expression formed on her small face.

"Great. More Avalanche members," she said bitterly. "Your friend Tifa has already tried to kill Rude. Now I suppose you'll try and do the same to me."

"And we'll be much more likely to succeed!" Yuffie somersaulted in front of her and raised her arms ready for battle. "I could take ya with my arm tied to my leg!"

Suddenly the Leviathan materia slotted neatly into Yuffie's shuriken began to gleam. Yuffie blinked at it.

"Hey! I didn't summon you! How do you switch this thing off?" she smacked the small crystal hard. It flickered, and then regained strength. Yuffie was dyed a bloody shade of red in its light. "Hey! Vincent! What's happening?"

Vincent was already beside her, sliding the orb out of its slot and turning it over. He looked even more distorted in the glow, shadows forming around his high cheekbones and nose and making him look skeletal. Elena kept her distance, confused.

"I don't know," he said finally. "I've never seen anything like this before."

Yuffie snatched it from his hands, and shouted angrily. "Leviathan! What in the name of Holy do you -"

There was an ear splitting roar, and the materia seemed to explode with light. Yuffie screamed soundlessly, her voice lost in the earth racking noise, and dropped it. Her hands clamped across her eyes. Elena had jerked her face away, also shielding her eyes from the light. Only Vincent was left to stare, horrified, into the inferno. He saw the materia dissolve into shards of boiling light, brighter than bright, which danced and swirled into each other. To Vincent it seemed an eternity of watching the retina-burning image build up, but it must have been only seconds. For a moment a strange creature stared down at him, a dragon made of light. A thousand iridescent flashes of colours passed across that shining frame, and the eyes were deep, heavy with the knowledge of generations and fierce with contained power. It seemed to have sprung straight from some deep primal core inside Vincent's brain. It was the spirit of every dragon that had ever flown, across every planet and in every time.

And the wings spread, for a moment cloaking the night sky with their searing brightness. A gust of wind that knocked Vincent flying as they flapped once, and lifted the lithe lizards body into the air. A final shrieking cry that threatened to crack the very ground and then it shot straight up like a firework, leaving nothing but a white after image that slowly faded.

Yuffie uncurled from her ball, and peered wide eyed at the sprawled body of Vincent. She was somewhat startled to discover the usually calm, withdrawn man staring straight into the sky with a grimace of fear on his face. She had never seen Vincent look afraid, not even when they had faced down the One Winged Angel. Now he was terrified.

"What... what happened?" Elena was ashen faced.

Vincent sat up slowly, his face gradually regaining its normal expression. There was a haunted look in those red demon eyes though.

"Ryuu-hi," he said, so quietly Yuffie could barely make him out.

"Ryuu-hi?" she repeated. And the wind snatched the syllables from her mouth and sent them spinning towards the far away ocean.


	4. The Fire Dragon

**Red Sky **

**The Fire Dragon**

Barret stomped around the perimeter of Kalm, amongst the old and the ill. The big, black, glowering man, resplendent with tattoos and leather, terrified the people he marched through, and more than one fled at the sight of him.

"There ain't gonna be no Shinra asshole' workin' fer Avalanche!" he roared suddenly, stopping short. Cid, who was chasing behind him, swearing continuously and occasionally coughing heavily, smacked straight into his back.

"Watch where you fuckin' going!"

"Don't just fucking stop in the middle of the fucking road!"

The two men glared at each other, and then Cid took a deep drag of his cigarette and said, slightly more calmly.

"What the fuck is wrong, anyhow?"

"This whole mission is! Avalanche was meant to destroy Shinra, not hire 'em!" Barret stormed, shaking his massive fist. A circle of thin, decrepit looking people had gathered at a safe distance. "What's Cloud thinkin' of? A bunch of greedy, mutherfuckin' corporate slaves ain't gonna be of no use!"

Cid considered the former terrorist leader. It was a tricky problem. Barret bore immense hatred for Shinra, mostly justified, but true hatred always contained a touch of the irrational. Having worked for the company, Cid knew that there were few truly evil Shinra employees. Misguided, desperate, naive, or cynical, every employee had reasons for joining, and reasons for staying. Viewed as individuals, they were blameless. Viewed as a group, they were unforgivable.

"Alright, let's find some people who aren't fucking Shinra then," Cid said.

For a moment Barret looked as if he would argue, and then his shoulders sagged. "I don't wanna do that," he said. "Marlene... she was in Midgar, but I'm sure she got out! I need to find her. I need to make sure she's okay."

Cid sighed.

"She's my daughter, Cid," Barret looked pleadingly at the older man. "She's the reason I ever tried to stop Shinra."

"Go look for your brat," Cid grumbled. "I'll gather up some assholes for guard duty, or whatever the fuck Cloud needs 'em for."

"Dam' straight!" Barret said, clapping Cid on the shoulder, before running into the crowd. Cid watched him go, puffing on his cigarette.

"Must be getting fucking sentimental in my old age," he muttered to himself.

"Ryuu-hi?"

Vincent closed his eyes, composing himself. When he opened them again, all trace of his fear was gone.

"But... how could it be?" Yuffie stared at him.

"I don't know."

Elena looked from one to the other, confused.

"But then... Leviathan?" Yuffie asked, anxiously looking around her for the summon materia.

"I don't know."

"Ryu-hi came out of Leviathan's materia!" Yuffie said. "But... where's Leviathan gone? The materia's disappeared!"

Vincent looked up at the sky, to the sun.

"Ryu-hi is meant to be dead!"

"Yes..."

"Whose Ryuu-hi?" Elena demanded. Yuffie shot her a contemptuous look.

"Stupid! Ryu-hi was the sun dragon!"

"He and Leviathan were the first," Vincent said quietly. "The spirits of the sun and the sea. Together, they created the lifestream."

Elena's mouth dropped. "The lifestream was created?"

"Yes. And for a long time, they watched over the creatures that came from the lifestream, giving them everything they needed. People arose from the lifestream, and separated into two groups," Vincent glanced at Yuffie. "The House of Kiseragi worshipped Leviathan, and they farmed the sea. The House of Hitobito worshipped Ryu-hi, and farmed the land. But both worked together, for the benefit of all people."

"This is a legend?" Elena asked.

"Partly. And partly a history. After time, the Houses grew arrogant. They each believed that they should rule. Every time they met, they argued. The Kiseragi's turned their harpoons and barbs into arrows and shuriken. The Hitobito's turned their ploughs to katana. There was a war. The Great War. The First War."

"The Kiseragi won, of course," Yuffie said.

"They did win. But at great cost. The entire Hitobito family was wiped out, and Ryu-hi also disappeared. After time, he was forgotten. The Kiseragi family ruled over Wutai, and most of the world." Vincent looked into the distance. "A few customs and styles of the Hitobito family remained of course. Styles of cooking, of dressing, of fighting... but they were meaningless shadows. The Kiseragi stayed in power for thousands of years, tracing their birth line back to the original House. Until the Shinra War... the Second War, they were omnipotent."

Elena was wide eyed. Her knowledge of history was meagre, limited to what she had picked up from the propaganda Shinra had fed her about "their glorious past". She had never considered that the small western village might have had a past as interesting, and as bloody.

"So why's Ryu-hi back?" Yuffie demanded. "We kicked his ass before!"

Vincent shook his head.

A dust cloud suddenly shot through the group, seemingly out of nowhere. Yuffie yelped, yanking up her shuriken. Elena dived to one side, but Vincent only raised an eyebrow as the dust cloud sped to a halt and revealed itself to be Cloud and Kiniro.

"Good kill," the blonde warrior said approvingly, indicating the dead elephant. "I'll get it back to Kalm. I hope Cait found Reeve."

"Boy Cloud! You just missed some really weird stuff!" Yuffie said. "Wait 'till you hear what happened! My materia - "

"Later Yuffie. I've got some important things to do." Cloud cut her off, as he leapt down from the chocobo and seized the elephant. "Junon is in trouble, but there's food and shelter there. I need to get Cid and Reeve together, so we can get the Highwind back."

Yuffie blanched. "The Highwind? Why?"

"We need it for transport. You guys just keep this up. Tell Nanaki the same, if you see him." Cloud vaulted back on to Kinirio and dug his heels in. The chocobo warked, and shot off into the distance.

"Man, what a jerk!" Yuffie said.

"There's nothing he could do," Vincent said, glancing again at the sky. "We still have a few hours of daylight left. Let's hunt."

"What about her?" Yuffie indicated Elena.

"What about me?"

"Well, you're a bad guy!"

"No I'm not," Elena snapped. "I'm no more bad guy than you!"

"Gimme a break. You were with Shinra!"

"So? That doesn't make me a bad guy!"

"Yes it does!"

"No it doesn't!"

"Yes it does!"

"No it doesn't!" The two women glared at each other, and then Yuffie suddenly realised Vincent had already started walking off.

"Dammit! Vincent! Wait! Vinny! Jerk!" she chased after him, shouting.

Elena watched them leave, shaking her head. Then her thoughts turned to the dragon of light, and the strange legend she had just heard. A frown creased her forehead, as she debated what to do. She needed a goal, and chasing down this 'Ryu-hi' seemed a good place to start.

The woman sat completely still, her face half hidden by the fan she held. On its silken surface, coils of fire wound around each other in intricate patterns. The finger that lay along the spine of the fan was slender, unmarred white skin, ending in a silver fingernail sheath. Above the fan, two dark oval eyes, lined with kohl and silver paint, stared unblinkingly down at the man sprawled on the floor in front of her chair. 

Sweat poured off the man, and pooled around him, unable to soak into the veined marble floor. He kept his gaze focused on the foot in front of him, with its silver slipper hemmed with more coils of fire, and ran a dry tongue across his lips.

"Well?" her voice was high pitched, musical, and yet emotionless; a delicate harmony with no feeling behind it.

"Naishinnô, I bring news of the Black Snakes."

"Indeed?" her fan moved slowly, still hiding the lower half of her face.

"They struck fast and deadly, none are left alive."

The fan invited him to continue.

"Junon fell quickly, the Shinra running like the curs they are. They left the fort a graveyard, running red with blood. Now they await your most imperial highness' command, knowing that they will achieve victory with those Chosen of Ryu-hi's blessings."

"They will march onto Fort Condor, leaving a detachment at Junon. They will leave none alive. No word of warning will reach Kalm before my snakes do."

"I will relay the message immediately," the man knocked his forehead against the floor and began to back away from the seated woman. She watched him go, from those dark unblinking, unwavering eyes, but he refused to meet her gaze.

As the screen door slid closed, cutting out the sight of the Naishinnô, the man breathed more easily, and wiped his forehead with one hand as he stood. He was a commander, and a war veteran, had faced many men in battle, and had lived through the disgrace of losing the Second War to Shinra. But in all his life, nothing had scared him so much as a twitch of a finger, or the flutter of a fan from this woman.

She is like ice, he thought, shuddering slightly. Beautiful, deadly and cold.

But she was also the Naishinnô, the only heir of the remaining Emperor, and as such she was Chosen of Ru-hi. Perhaps the Fire Dragon has need of an Ice Woman, the man thought, as he hurried out of the building and into the streets of Wutai.

The town had fared better than most. The destruction had centred on the Midgarian continent, and only a few tremors had reached them. Their buildings were solid, ancient structures that had weathered many storms. People milled about outside, discussing recent events with excitement. They had no idea why Meteor had not struck the planet into oblivion, and many theories were put forward with enthusiasm.

"It was the Planet, I'm tellin' ya, like those crazy sods used to talk about before they got flooded out..."

"It was nothing of the sort, it was Shinra. They took out Meteor, but blew themselves up doing it."

"No, no, no. It was the Gods, they joined forces and..."

"There are no Gods 'cept Leviathan!"

"Are you crazy? What kind of stupid plank doesn't believe in the other Gods!"

"I don't! It was propaganda cooked up by Shinra to make us afraid!"

"I've seen the other Gods!"

"What-freaking-ever!"

The babble of voices faded as he left the centre of town, and headed out into the mountainous country. His chocobo was where he had left it, its head drooping. He cursed it, and climbed aboard. Spurs would have been useful, but nobody in Wutai used chocobos, and it would have been too noticeable if he had worn them. He settled for kicking it in the ribs as hard as he could, and at the same time striking it on the top of its head with his open palm.

"Move!" he commanded, his voice harsh.

It shuffled slowly into a jog, faster than a man could walk but still frustratingly slow. He had been to the Gold Saucer, he knew these birds could move quicker than this! He kicked it again, and the bird gave a low cry of pain, before increasing its speed. Force. You had to force everything in this world. Nothing gave of its best unless you forced it from them.

That included his Snakes. But they had given of their best in Junon. Oh yes. They had sliced through the underbelly of that rotten city and let the infected fluids gush forth to cleanse it. Not one living creature had been left alive, he was sure.

The boat was nestled under the cliff, hidden from casual observation. The chocobo climbed in, its fear of open water less than its fear of the man on its back. The man grunted with satisfaction, and dismounted. The oars were where he had left them. He began to row them out of the shelter, a slow grin dawning on his face despite himself.

They were doing it. Destroying Shinra where the Kiseragi scum had failed. Seizing back the power that had been taken from them so long ago.

He was far enough from the coast now. Nobody could hear him. The thrill of victory rushing in his veins, he stood up and raised his fist to the sun that burned implacably above him.

"Praise Ryuu-hi!"

It was the flowers in the windows that caused the house to catch his attention. Barret stood for a moment, ignoring the crowd that surrounded him. The garden had been overrun of course, but in the windows there still stood pots of spider plants and begonia. He moved towards it determinedly, the crowd parting before his bulk.

He hammered on the door with his good hand, feeling the reverberations through his fingers. It was solid wood, and he approved. If his daughter were in there, he wanted nobody to try and rob the place. Not that the crowd had yet been stirred to robbery, but still... he knew it was coming.

Nobody had answered. He hammered again, with his gun this time. The wood quivered beneath his pounding.

"Who's there?" a woman's voice sounded from the other side, tense with fear.

"It's Barret!" he roared. "I've come ta fe'ch Marlene back!"

"Barret?"

The door crept open an inch. He held his impatience, knowing that the woman only wanted to protect his daughter.

"It is you!" Elmira exclaimed. She pulled the door open the full distance, her eyes widening at the sight of him. "Sweet Holy! Come in!"

He entered, and looked around immediately for signs of his daughter. They were everywhere: in the the drawings tacked to the walls, in the brightly painted wooden doll that leant against a chair, in the tiny shoes that lay haphazardly by the stove.

"Where is she?" he demanded.

"Upstairs, I sent her to hide when I heard you knocking," the woman replied. She looked at him searchingly for a moment, and then went to the foot of the stairs and called up it.

"Marlene! Your Papa is here!"

She came at a run, leaping down the stairs and into his embrace with a squeal of pure joy.

"Papa!"

He sank to his knees, clutching her as tightly as he dared. Her brown head buried into his chest as she sobbed, her tiny arms as far around his thick body as they could reach. Elmira stood nearby, watching them with tears in her own eyes.

She couldn't leave them like that for long though. Clearing her throat, she asked the question she dreaded the answer to.

"Is Aerith...?"

Barret stayed clutching Marlene for a moment longer. Then he gently disengaged her hands, and stood up. His eyes met Elmira's squarely. There was no room within them for doubt, but she clung to doubt anyway.

"What... what happened...?"

He shook his head slowly. "Sephiroth... Sephiroth kill'd 'er. I... I'm sorry."

There was a long minute of silence. Then she sank slowly to the floor, her knees buckling beneath her. No sound came from her. She didn't think she would ever make a sound again. Aerith... her little baby. Her fingers clutched convulsively at the floor. How could this be happening? She felt numb, detached from herself. Somewhere inside her body a great gaping void had just been torn into her. But she viewed it apart from herself, unable to comprehend the vastness of the loss.

Barret watched her helplessly. He felt eminently unsuited to have delivered such crushing news. Why couldn't Tifa be here, with her soft and comforting words? He wished he could pick Marlene up and leave. But he couldn't leave Elmira alone, not like this.

He went over to the woman, and put his good arm around her awkwardly. She reached for him wordlessly, and clung as tightly as Marlene had. Marlene. Barret looked up to see his daughter coming to hug Elmira as well. Elmira pulled the little girl into her lap, and rested her hand on the back of Marlene's head, stroking her hair gently. There was a terrible emptiness in Elmira's face, a blackness behind her eyes. She seemed suddenly very old.

"Is the flower girl dead, Papa?" Marlene's voice was strange. She sounded resigned. Barret looked at his daughter in shock. How could his daughter have become resigned to death?

"Yes, Marl," he said soberly. He had viewed this meeting as a moment of joy and triumph. He would've wiped out Shinra, and been reunited with his daughter. Everything should've been perfect.

Marlene nodded. "I saw her though... before Zen' died too. Maybe they're together now."

Barret frowned at her.

"Zen?" he asked.

"Tseng," Elmira said wearily. "He saved us both. Stayed here for a while. Then he just... died. In the garden. Marlene was upset... she had just started to like him."

"Tsen' saved ya both?" Barret said blankly. "I thought he were dead a lon' time back!"

Elmira shook her head. "I think he 'disappeared' from Shinra, because he got hurt. I don't know what happened, but he had trouble walking, let alone fighting. Some sort of spinal injury. He lived with us for a while... I felt that we owed it to him, after he got us out of the city."

Barret stared at her in confusion that began to turn to anger.

"You let a fuckin' Turk near Marlene?" he demanded.

Elmira pulled away from him, and clutched Marlene to her. The little girl cuddled her instinctively.

"Please don't get angry..." she said. "He kidnapped Marlene, but then he brought her back, gave us a key to the city, and bought this house for us. He never told us why. I don't think he was truly a bad man... and if he was, well, he's dead now and at peace."

"That bastard too' Aerith from ya! If i' wasn't for him, she migh' still be alive!"

Elmira flinched as if she had been physically struck, and her fingers dug into Marlene, who whimpered. Barret swore.

"Ya know I'm righ'! The Turks were the scum o' Shinra, and Shinra were the scum o' the Planet!"

"Shut up!" Elmira was suddenly on her feet, her voice shaking. Marlene held onto her leg, desperately. "You keep spitting out that Shinra is this, Shinra was that! Tseng saved Marlene's life! If he hadn't taken us from the city, she would have died! He didn't catch Aerith for years after he first came to get her... not because he was outwitted by a little girl, but because he didn't want to turn her over to Shinra! He was not the one who... who... killed my girl. Sephiroth did that. Hate Sephiroth if you need someone to hate! But don't curse the man who saved your daughter, and tried to save mine, in the house where he died!"

Barret gaped at her. Then his face went dark with fury.

"After evert'ing, you wanna defend the bastard? After everyt'ing he' responsible fer? He too' Aerith, and oversaw the de'truction of Sector Seven! If it weren't fer him, Biggs, Wedge and Jessie might still be alive!"

Elmira choked on her sobs. This couldn't be happening. She couldn't argue with him, she had never had the strength to last out conflict.

"Get out," she said. "Take Marlene, and get out."

"No, 'Mira!" wailed Marlene. "I don't wanna leave you!"

"I don't want you to leave," Elmira told the girl. "But you must go with Papa."

Marlene sobbed into Elmira's skirts. Elmira glared at Barret.

"Go."

"Marlene," Barret said, and picked up his daughter. She sobbed, not understanding, knowing only that here was another leaving without warning. Barret cradled her protectively, and walked out of the house without a backward glance. Elmira locked the door behind him, and then leant her forehead against the wood.

"Aerith..." she whispered.

Having made the decision to chase down Ryuu-hi, Elena realised she had no idea where to begin. An enormous blazing dragon of fire should, in theory, be easy to find. But it could fly, and she at the moment was too tired even to run.

Therefore, she opted instead for heading to Kalm. It was not the ideal choice, but someone at Kalm would be able to get her something to drink at the very least. She had some gil, after all, and there would be people taking advantage of the situation to make some money. There always was.

When she arrived, however, she found herself standing uncertainly on the edge of town, amongst a makeshift town of blankets and small fires. She brushed her hand through her hair, wondering what to do.

"If Reno was here, he'd have us installed in the Inn by now," she muttered angrily to herself, and could almost hear his mocking comment on how useless she was. Gritting her teeth, she walked to the nearest campfire, and addressed the woman sat, staring into the flames.

"Excuse me, do you know where I might find some clean water?" she asked, politely.

The woman started, and looked up. When she saw who was standing there, her eyes widened further.

"Elena... is that you?"

Elena stared at the woman. She had no idea who she was.

"It is! Oh by Holy! I'm so happy to see you!" the woman leapt to her feet and caught Elena in a bone crunching hug. Elena squeaked. "I don't believe it! I haven't seen you in years! Imagine meeting up here, at a time like this! Oh sweet Odin! I'm so scared and alone! What about you? Is there anyone here you know made it out alive? I've not seen anyone I recognise... I hope things get sorted out soon! I can't believe Shinra let us all down like that... I thought they were meant to have things under control! They should be more considerate of the Above Plate citizens, don't you think? Concentrate on getting them food and shelter at the very least... instead we're just left to wallow in mud like the rest of these slummers."

Elena felt a grimace twist her face, but she forced it back and painted on a fake smile instead.

"It has been a while, hasn't it? Can you remind me of your name?"

"You don't remember? Silly Elle! But you never were very good at remembering names, were you? I'm Christine. Christine Collins, now, you know!" Elena looked at the ring on Christine's finger, and smiled congratulations. Christine pulled a face. "He didn't make it though, he got crushed! Isn't it dreadful?"

Elena felt the return of the grimace, and managed to turn it into a look of sympathy. "That's a shame."

"Oh, I know! I really miss him..." Christine crinkled her nose. She looked strange, somehow, performing the fluttery actions of a society lady, and patting at her dishevelled blonde hair as though to fix a few fly away strands. It was as though all the dust and debris, the ring of camp fires, the loss of her husband, was not real, but just some minor inconvenience, like a broken shoe heel.

"Do you have any water, Christine?" Elena asked, again.

"Oh! I do actually. I had to stand in the longest queue to get it though. And they didn't even serve the Above Plate citizens first! I saw some absolute ragamuffins get served before me!"

"It will probably get sorted out soon," Elena said.

"Oh, more than likely. Shinra are organising things, I guess. Didn't you go off to work for Shinra, my dear?"

"Yeah... yeah, I did."

"Did you meet anybody there? I would hate to have to work all day, I have the hardest time getting up in the mornings you know!"

"Water, Christine?"

"I forgot, silly me! Here you are... I'm sorry I don't have glasses or anything, but I couldn't save anything. It's all insured though, thankfully."

Elena accepted the water canteen without comment, and let Christine's babbling fade away into the background.

She would have to return to Rude. Now that her anger had died away, and the hopeless drifting had ended, she was in a better position to read his words as he had meant them. He would be suffering because of Reno's death, probably more than her... the two had been partners for a long time. She felt her throat constrict slightly at the thought of Reno, but pushed that away from herself firmly. Now was not the time.

Then, together they would solve the mystery of the Ryuu-hi summon. It would be something to do while Avalanche sorted out things here. Wutai would still be standing, surely... they could go there, to investigate the legends Valentine had spoken of.

"And then the guards started battering down my door, the ones with the revolution, I guess. I was so scared, I hid under my bed, but then things started to fall down and I realised I should get out while I could," Christine's voice drifted back into focus. Elena set down the canteen, and nodded to herself. A plan. That was all she had needed all along.

"Christine? Thank you for the water. I have to go now. There's someone I need to find."

"No!" Christine said, eyes flying wide. "Elena, please don't leave me all alone again!"

Elena glanced at the woman, and groaned inwardly. "Christine, I can't help you anymore than anyone else here. I'm as alone as you are."

"Please," Christine insisted. "I can't survive by myself. Elena, you were always so much more sensible than I was. I know you can look after me."

Elena groaned, out loud this time. There was no way to turn this woman away, not with that beseeching expression on her. Shiva only knew what Rude would say.

"Alright," she said. "But make sure you keep up."

"Oh, I will! Elena, thank you so much! You've saved me, you really have... oh, but Elena. That suit does nothing for you, you know. I mean, I realise it's a little knocked out of shape... but the cut, it just swamps your figure! When things are fixed up, we'll go shopping and I'll buy you some nice clothes, alright?"

"Sure, Christine. Bring the canteen, and anything else you want to keep." Elena started to walk away.

"Wait! Wait! Let me get my things together, Elle. I'm not very fast at packing, you know. My husband - " she said the word with pride. " - always used to tell me we were going on a holiday a day earlier than we actually were, so I would have time to pack. He was so sweet to me, Elle."

"Sure, sure, Christine. But you can't have that much stuff, so just grab it and lets get moving. We have a long way to walk."

"We do? Where are we going, Elle?"

"Junon."

"Junon? But honey, you can't get there except by helicopter! There's a swamp and mountains and all kinds of monsters between here and Junon."

"I know, Christine. I came from Junon. There's a tunnel through the mountains, and the swamp isn't so bad if you stick to the dryer parts. The monsters aren't anything to worry about in this part of the world either, really."

"You came from Junon? Honey, what are you talking about?"

"That's where my friend is... or should be by now. Unless he just stayed on the beach... I'm not sure."

"But the monsters... Elle, they attack people that wander around outside!"

"I can deal with the monsters," Elena told her, grinning. "I was a Turk, Christine!"

"A Turk? What in Holy is that, Elle? I don't think we should go outside with someone to keep us safe."

"Christine! I can handle the monsters. If you want to come, then come. If you don't, then stay here. But I have to get to Junon."

"You must love this guy very much," Christine said snippily. "To go all that way to him. Make him come to you. if you act too desperate, he'll never fall for you."

Elena stared at her for a moment, and then started laughing.

"In love with... with Rude!" she gasped through her laughter. "That's funny, that's..." she choked, realising she was on the edge of hysteria, and forced herself back under control. Christine stared at her.

"I'm sorry," Elena said, rubbing wetness away from her eyes. "It's just... I did love someone, a lot. But he's dead now."

"That's funny?" Christine said, peering at her friend, clearly worried.

Elena shook her head. "I guess not. I'm just tired... sorry."

"I'm ready," Christine said, doubtfully.

"Let's get moving then. We'll stop at the farm for a rest before we take on the swamp though."

"Okay, Elle." Christine fell into step beside her friend. Elena gave a sideways glance, noting the flaccid skin about her upper arms. She doubted Christine had ever done much walking before. She hoped she wouldn't slow her down too much.

Junon was abandoned. Rude stood in front of the metal doors of the elevator, his fingers tracing the edges of a great gouge that had been scored into the metal. It looked like a talon mark of some kind. Maybe a mako monster had tried to claw its way in.

Or climb in. More talon marks scored the metal above him. He could probably climb up, if he used them. Was there a reason to break into Junon? Yes, of course there was. Even if everybody was dead, there would be some bottles left unbroken in the pubs. The world would look a lot better the other side of a few slugs of vodka.

The sharp edges of the broken metal cut into his fingers, but his gloves protected the rest of his hand. He'd done harder things in the service of the Turks, that was for sure. Slowly, but steadily, he worked his way up the side of the building.

The sun had become a streak of red light on the horizon by the time he reached the top. He rolled under the railing and stood up, looking around him in the dim light. Bodies littered the space, but Rude ignored them. It wasn't his job to speculate on the whys or hows.

"Wark!"

The black chocobo greeted him cheerfully. It was the one Tifa had ridden, Rude noted. Its feathers were slick, and its eye bright. She obviously took good care of it.

The pouches lining the Chocobo's saddle were bulging. He opened one, and noted the potions, low level materia, and random trinkets stuffed inside. A fire ring burned dully in the darkness, and he touched it, and then paused when he saw the materia next to it.

It was red. A summon. Maybe the same summon that had behaved so strangely earlier. He held his hand over it, not quite daring to touch it. He had never disregarded the SME, the Summon Materia Effect. Discovered by Dr Gast, and later disproved by Hojo, the SME suggested that the Gods were sentient beings, who could turn on people who tried to summon them for evil purposes. Rude shook his head, and picked up the materia. What did it matter if he died now, anyway?

He held it cupped in his hand, admired the red flicker of it against the black leather of his glove. Then it flared suddenly to life, and he dropped it in shock. It bounced and rolled a few feet, its light dying away as it came to a stop.

"..." Rude went onto his knees, and examined the materia closely. Was it a warning? But it had done the same thing to Tifa...

He picked it up again. Almost instantly, the light flared up, beating wildly against the inside of the rock. A tingle began in his hand, his pulse beating as erratically as the light.

It was the Shiva summon. He was not sure how he knew that, the name was just there in his mind. He stood up, the materia balanced in his palm. The sun had disappeared completely, and his face was lit from beneath by the dancing red glow of the materia.

It wanted to be summoned. He didn't know how he knew that, either, he just did. It might burn him up if he did, according to Dr Gast and his SME. But if Shiva wanted to be summoned, he couldn't be punished for obeying her wishes, could he?

He wanted to summon it. Before today, he had never used a materia stronger than a Cure-3. The more powerful stones were difficult to find, and those that had come into Shinra's keeping almost immediately ended up with the President or Scarlet, both of whom were now dead. The Turks were meant to rely on their innate skills, not materia given ones.

He wasn't going to summon it. Slowly, he put the materia back in the saddle pouch. Its light went out almost immediately, leaving him almost blind. The sun had disappeared completely from the sky, and the few stars out were dull. Rude went to push his sunglasses more firmly onto his face, and then realised he wasn't wearing them. He shook his head once, and went to find the bar.


	5. Ten Thousand Thousand Stars

**Red Sky **

**Ten Thousand Thousand Stars**

Reeve rubbed his knuckles into his eyes. He was so tired. He didn't think he'd ever been this tired before. His candle guttered briefly and he looked longingly towards the sleeping bag stretched out on the ground sheet of the tent.

But he couldn't sleep, not whilst the crowd of starving refugees swamped Kalm. He had to organise a plan: create systems to deal with waste, work out a way to make the distribution of water more efficient and more fair, find the materials to create shelters to keep off the rain, get food to the young and old who were already dying from the harsh conditions.

It wouldn't be so bad, if only he could get hold of some coffee. Any kind of coffee. But luxuries like that were in short supply. He wondered briefly what Cid would do when he ran out of cigarettes.

His carefully sketched schematic was blurring in front of his vision. He forced himself to focus on it, and began pencilling in distribution points.

"Reeve!" Cloud walked through the tent flap, sending the shadows skittering and leaping about excitedly. Reeve fancied for a moment that he could hear them shrieking in high pitched voices to each other.

"Cloud?" he said questioningly.

"I've got a plan to save everyone," Cloud said, scanning the inside of the tent automatically. His eyes glowed in the dim light. Were they almost as bright now as Sephiroth's had been? Reeve shook his head.

"You do?"

"Yes, but iI need you to help us come up with a scheme to rescue the Highwind from the swamp."

"You do?" Reeve said. How long would that take? Too long, he was sure. It would need levers of some kind, ropes, lots of workmen...

"Yes. I've been to Junon, and there's space there for at least a few thousand people. Food as well, in the shops."

"What about the Junoners?" Reeve asked.

Cloud hesitated, and then shrugged. "They're all dead. I don't know, maybe they killed each other. It's our only hope Reeve. We can't keep everyone here indefinitely, we'll trash the place."

"You're right... I know you're right. But if I don't keep them alive until we can move them somewhere else..." Reeve shook his head again. "I can't think straight."

Cloud frowned, examining Reeve more closely. His brown eyes were bloodshot and rimmed with dark circles. Lines had creased his forehead into a permanent frown. His skin was sallow and his back hunched. The neat goatee and combed hair had grown out, and assumed a ragged appearance out of keeping with the man's fastidious nature. His hands were trembling, skinny fingers gripping the pencil he held in his right hand so tightly his knuckles had gone white.

"Reeve, you look like hell. Have you slept at all?"

Reeve put the pencil down carefully, and sat up straighter. A note of defiance sounded in his voice as he replied. "Not much, not for a while. I can handle it though. I need to look after these people, now I'm President."

"You're President?"

"Both Scarlet and Rufus said I should succeed. I'm the only person the revolutionaries and the Soldiers will listen to. We need to keep an organised system going, or everything will become anarchic! If Shinra... the remains of Shinra... fall apart now, we're done for."

"Okay," Cloud said, changing the subject. "Back to raising the Highwind. I'm going to get Cid to do most of the work, I think. But we'll need your input too, you're good at this sort of thing."

Reeve looked down at his schematic again. The lines were dancing circles. "If Cid comes up with any ideas, come and run them past me."

"Okay, that's fine. Did Cait find you? I have Vincent, Yuffie and Nanaki out hunting for food right now, I'll tell them to report in to you, let you know how it's going."

"Yes, Cait found me. I put him on auto, and sent him out again. I'm not sure what he's doing... telling fortunes probably."

"Yeah..." Cloud looked away, uncomfortably. The tent was stuffy, and small. Reeve was using a piece of planking as a drawing board, resting it against his knees as he sat cross legged on the floor. The candle guttered, before flaring up again.

"I have to go find Cid now," Cloud said. He felt that there should be something more to say, something to sum up the strange circumstances they were in, but he couldn't think of anything. "See ya later," he finished, and left the tent.

Outside, the night air was cold and damp. The Shinra Guards and Soldiers had set up either side of Reeve's tent, both claiming the privilege of protecting him. They glared at each other occasionally, tension running thick between the two camps. There was remarkably few of them left.

"Fucking hell, Cloud, where ya been? I been waiting fucking ages!" Cid's rasping voice interrupted his thoughts, and he turned to face the ex-pilot.

"Cid. Where's Barret?"

"Went to find Marlene," Cid grunted. "You wouldn't catch him fucking around this part of the shit hole, though. Won't even think about joining up with Shinra. I got these assholes together though." Cid waved towards a miscellany of toughs, their professions written all over them. Ex-bodyguards, pimps, bouncers and henchman from the slums slouched behind Cid. Untrained but experienced, uneducated, but cunning, needle tracks up their arms and noses that were mere bloody holes, but covered in stringy muscle and tough as leather.

"Great..." Cloud said, unenthusiastically.

"Hey man, these are the best fucking assholes you're gonna find." Cid stubbed out his cigarette and lit another one.

"You're probably right, but I feel like I'm running with a street gang. Still, they might be useful for this next job I have for you."

"Don't I get to fucking eat first?" Cid demanded.

"No. We need to raise the Highwind from the swamp. Think it can be done?"

Cid considered thoughtfully for a moment, and then frowned. "Shit. I don't bloody well know. It's a fucking big airship, and that swamp must be pretty deep to swallow it all. If we had some better equipment... I'm gonna go to Midgar."

"Why?" Cloud asked.

"There might be something salvageable. It can't all be fucked up."

"Going to take these guys?"

"Yeah, they might come in handy. Heavy lifting, or some such shit. Get movin' assholes! We're going to Midgar!"

"It's night time," Cloud pointed out.

"Yeah, well, I'm too damn hungry to sleep worth shit!"

-

Barret stood on the edge of Kalm, a little beyond the last yellow circle of firelight that marked the perimeter of the encampment. Marlene was asleep, cradled in his arms. She had cried, and her face was still damp where the tears had run.

He was not an observant man, and Yuffie and Vincent were almost on top of him before he noticed them. They dragged the carcass of a bloated bird by its long, stick like legs. They appeared to be arguing, Yuffie's voice shrill with annoyance, and Vincent's calm but unyielding. Barret frowned, and challenged them.

"What yer makin' all that noise for?"

"Barret!" exclaimed Yuffie. "You'll back me up on this! Didn't Wutai invent sandwich toasters? Waaay before anyone else, and definitely before Shinra!"

"Sandwich toasters?" Barret repeated "What'cha talkin' 'bout?"

"It was a long time ago, like fifty years... And Wutai invented them. Wutai invented everything worth being invented!"

"Wutai did not invent the sandwich toaster," Vincent said wearily. "Wutai didn't have leavened bread, until it began to be imported."

"Damnit, Vinny, that's not true! You don't know anything about anything. I've been using traditional Wutaian sandwich toasters since I was born!"

"... fine." Vincent said, shifting his grip on the dead poultry's leg. "I am not debating that point with you. But the initial invention came from Midgar, and the Wutaian's merely adapted it, making it smaller and more efficient."

"You don't know any of this Vinny, you spent the last hundred years in a box!"

"Both o' you shuddup." Barret said, "I ain't in t' mood fer this shit."

"What's the matter Barret, ya big poop-head?" Yuffie said.

"The matter?" snarled Barret. "Everyt'ing! Elmira let some dam' Turk help loo' af'er Marlene, and she decided he were a good guy! An assho' Turk!"

"Which one?" Yuffie asked. "Is he still there? We ran into a Turk too, while we were hunting. Vinny wussed out on me though, so I couldn't kill her."

"He's dead," grunted Barret. "Thank Bahamut. Was Tseng. I though' t' assho' died a lon' time back."

Vincent shifted slightly, frowning. "What happened?"

"I dunno. Elmira weren't making a whole lotta sense."

Marlene stirred slightly in Barret's arms, and let out a sigh. Vincent's eyes flicked briefly to her, before returning to Barret's face. Barret continued talking.

"I ain't sure what kinda shit he pulled on Elmira t' make her think he were t'be trusted. She always seemed like a sensible kinda woman t'me. Jest goes t' show what kinda cunning dam' slimy snakes they are! T' only good Turk is a dead Turk!"

"Hmm," Vincent said.

"Ain't the worst o' it though. He go' his lies into my li'l Marlene's head, and now she thinks he's a good guy too..."

"We'll soon teach her differently," Yuffie said. "Let's get this thing back to camp. It's freezing out here!"

She seized the bird again, and started to haul, stopping when she realised Vincent was standing, staring thoughtfully out to the dark horizon. "Hey! You lazy red-eyed freak! Give me a hand here! I ain't hauling this back by myself!"

Vincent sighed, and glanced at Barret. "Do you know how he died?"

"Eh. He jest died." Barret fell into step beside Yuffie, looking impatient.

"Hmm." Vincent turned and started walking away from Kalm, to Yuffie's surprise.

"Hey! Lug head! Where you going? The town's this way!"

Vincent vanished into the night.

"Vinny! Hey! HEY!" Yuffie shouted after him.

"Le' him go," Barret said. "If goth-boy wants t' stalk the darkness, more joy t' him."

Yuffie pulled a face. "Why would he do that? We were gonna have toasted sandwiches when we got back!"

"How?" Barret demanded. "There ain't no bread, le' alone shit to pu' in th' bread!"

"We got this overgrown Cocatolis don't we?" Yuffie indicated the dead bird.

"You can't toast that! You'd hafta roast it, probal'y fer hours!"

"You mean I gotta wait hours for dinner still? I'm starving! I'm starving _now_!"

"Yeah, well, deal with it," Barret said.

Vincent waited until their voices had faded into the distance before slowing his pace. His own reaction had surprised him, but the callousness in Barret's voice as he had spoken of Tseng's death had struck a nerve.

It was a cold, cloudless night. The stars were diamond bright, a thousand pin pricks against a black sky. A faint breeze whispered around Vincent as he walked across the grass plains. The Midgarian plains. How many times had he crossed them? Uncountable times, with the Turks, and latterly with Avalanche.

Was that how people had spoken of him, after Hojo had entombed him in the basement of the Shinra Mansion? Perhaps not even his fellow Turks - all dead now, he supposed - had missed him. He had become absorbed with Lucrecia - his beloved Lucrecia - and the messy situation that had arisen from that. In doing so, his professional relationship with the other Turks had faded to almost nothing.

They hadn't liked him anyway. A Wutaian who had been driven from his country, just before the end of the war. A kid, arrogant as all kids were, thinking he could survive in the alien world of Midgar.

Vincent paused, and looked behind him. The fire light from Kalm had faded to nothing. Nothing but darkness from where Midgar had once been.

He sat down with a sigh, and leaned back. The stars glittered. He held up his hand, blocking them out. He had lost the sky twice. Both times had marked periods of confusion, pain, loss and change.

Interlude One: When in Midgar

"We're fucked, Vince," Tai spoke calmly, her expression unreadable behind the sunglasses she wore. Vincent wore a similar pair, and was finding it difficult to see properly inside the smoky, dimly lit bar.

"And the blond hair does nothing for you," Tai added, turning her head to look at Vincent. He saw himself reflected in the lens of the sunglasses. She was right, and he ran a hand through his short, bleached hair with a grimace.

"It makes you look all washed out. Like a damn albino."

"Better an albino than a Wutain. And change languages," Vincent said in carefully precise Midgarian. "If you don't stop speaking Wutaian, we'll get noticed in no time."

"It's an ugly language," Tai spat. "I hate it. It's full of growls and pebbles, like an angry muddy rock fall. Wutain is much more beautiful, it is more like water."

"Right now, we have no choice."

"I know that!" Tai slumped further in her chair. She looked tired, and frustrated. Lines marred her small, oval shaped face, and her mouth was screwed up. He placed his fingers against her forehead, and slid it down to her lips, smoothing out the tension. He wished she wasn't so beautiful. Even with her hair chopped short and bleached to a strawberry blond, and her almond shaped eyes hidden by the dark lenses, she was stunning. Her skin was flawless, and each limb tiny but perfectly proportioned and balanced. Every movement she made was fluid, expressive and elegant.

She was as unlike the clumsy, stocky overbearing Midgarians as a bird was from a bull, and her use of the lilting Wutaian language just made it worse. Even when she spoke Midgarian, she couldn't rid herself of the accent that ran words together and slurred the harder sounds.

Vincent had picked the language and accent up fast. He was naturally tall, a product of his shameful parentage. Ironic, that a tainted half-breed had a better chance of survival than the beautiful pure blood woman beside him.

"What are we going to do Vincent? We have no money, no house, no friends or family to support us. This whole city hates us and would kill us if they could!"

"We will survive."

"How?"

Vincent surveyed the bar. It was a grungy, downtrodden place. The few drinkers were elderly, beaten down, with grizzled hair and blood shot, watery eyes. They stared into their drinks with single-minded focus.

Behind the bar a bald, flaccid man leant on bruised elbows. He had the fish-white skin of a perpetual slummer.

The slums. Cut off from the sky. Vincent scowled. It was unnatural, to deprive someone of sunlight, wind and rain. No wonder Midgarians were so deformed and pallid, with twisted greedy souls that sought only to consume everything around them.

_And this was my father.  
_  
"I'll get a job," he said to Tai. "We'll find cheap accommodation somewhere, and lay low for a while. After the war, when Wutai have... have won, we'll figure out what we can become."

"Do you think we'll ever see Wutai again?" Tai's voice was quiet.

"Someday, we will."

"You shouldn't have come with me..." Tai hesitated. "It was me they exiled. Not you."

"I couldn't let a princess of the House of Kiseragi travel alone." Vincent said. "It is my duty to protect and serve you."

"I am not a princess any longer," Tai put her fingers to her temple. "My father disowned me. My country exiled me. I am a traitor in their eyes."

"You cannot be a traitor to your blood," Vincent surveyed the bar again. A grim faced man had just entered, and Vincent watched him furtively.

"Wutai will fall," Tai said, even more quietly than before. "Wutai will fall and Shin-Ra will turn it into a mockery of itself. We could have given them the right to enough land to build Mako fountains, and saved our strength. Saved the lives of our ninja, that get torn to pieces by the enhanced Soldiers. And Sephiroth."

"Leviathan will protect us," Vincent said automatically, his eyes following the grim faced man. The man had walked across to the bar and was ordering a whiskey. He kept shooting glances towards the two of them, with their sunglasses and bleached blond hair that was no disguise at all.

"We have to leave. Now."

"Why?" Tai looked up.

"Don't argue. Move."

They stood, and Tai lifted her leather coat from the back of the chair. Vincent gave her no time to put it on, grasping her wrist and pulling her towards the door.

"In a hurry?" the grim faced man had turned and was regarding them openly.

"Late for an appointment," Vincent said, his hand on the door handle.

"That's true. An appointment with me," the gun that appeared in his hand was small, and sleek. Vincent pushed Tai behind him. The rest of the bar's clientele scrambled for cover, instincts honed by this cruel place.

_If I only had a weapon!_

"Don't play games," the man said quietly. "I am an excellent shot. I would hate to have to shoot you down, Vincent Valentine, but I will if I need to."

"What do you want from us?" Tai demanded, her voice shrill. "We're just trying to - "

"Be quiet, Miss Kiseragi."

Vincent's fist clenched. Unarmed, unprepared. If Tai wasn't with him he could attempt to escape, but she was there, clinging to his arm.

"Who are you?"

"Come away from the door."

Vincent walked slowly to the middle of the room, Tai trailing him. He felt impotent, useless in the face of this one man who held all the cards.

"I am a Turk. My name is Drekanov."

Another man and a woman entered the bar, both holding guns. Drekanov nodded to them. "My partners. Richard, and Melissa. Richard, handcuff them."

"Sir."

The cold steel snapped shut around his wrists, taking with it the last hope of freedom. Tai's face was rigid, proud and cold, but he could feel her shaking.

"What do you want with us?"

"Information, Mr. Valentine. And then your life."

They took them to a utilitarian cell and left them there for two days. A guard, anonymous behind his face mask, brought them water and bread at infrequent intervals. Tai was silent, sitting on the edge of the bed with her hands folded in her lap. Her dark, almond eyes were downcast, staring at her hands.

When Drekanov returned it was with a simple message.

"You tell us everything you know about the Wutaian army: its plans, strategies, equipment, numbers, commanders and last known whereabouts. If you do not comply, we torture one or both of you until you do."

He left, and they sat in silence for a while. Tai spoke finally.

"I am not a traitor. My people labelled me as one, but I'm not."

Vincent said nothing. His mouth was dry, because he knew something of torture. Everyone had their breaking point. You could only hope that the person who tortured you was unskilled enough to let you die before you reached it.

"I will say nothing, whatever they do to me."

"Princess Kiseragi..."

"Do not betray our country, Vincent! Whatever they do to me, whatever they do to you. Stay silent."

They were left for another two days. This time, the guard brought them water but no bread. When Drekanov came again, they moved slowly to obey the guards who escorted them out of the cell. Tai looked empty eyed, her movements clumsy and without the grace she had once had.

They were taken to a larger cell, where the other two Turks waited, arms crossed, leaning against a wall. Vincent was handcuffed to the bars. The male Turk looked at him curiously.

"This one ain't a full Wute. Looks part Nibelheim to me."

"He grew up in Wutai, and that's all that matters to us." Drekanov turned to Vincent. "So. Going to give us the information voluntarily?"

Vincent felt Tai's eyes on him as he shook his head. No.

"Shame. This part of the job is messy." Drekanov walked over to Tai, placed his hands on her shoulders and threw her against the wall. Vincent flinched as he heard the crunch. Tai gasped, and slid to the floor.

Richard walked over, loose limbed, and kicked her in the ribs. It was a professional kick, well placed. He followed it up with three more, which was when Tai started crying.

"Stop it," Vincent said. Knowing it was pointless, even as he said it.

"Who are your commanders?"

Vincent said nothing, but yanked on the handcuff, feeling the solid resistance. No escape. No nearby weapons.

Richard reached down and hauled Tai up by the front of her shirt. With a slight grimace, he punched her in the face. Once. Twice. Tai's nose crunched and fountained blood that ran down her face, soaked into her shirt, and smeared onto his fingers.

"She is a princess of the Kiseragi House!" Vincent heard his voice echo around the room as he shouted. "You blaspheme against blood that can be traced back to Leviathan himself!"

"Wutai and its stupid snake Gods," Melissa sneered from the far wall. "Do you think anything can stand up to Shin-Ra, idiot?"

"Her blood's the same colour as everyone else's," Richard said dryly, switching his punch from Tai's face to her gut.

"She might piss blood for a while," Melissa said. "But she won't die, Vincent, so don't worry," she smiled. "We're pros."

Vincent yanked again against the handcuff. There was an art, a way of bending and twisting to free yourself from handcuffs, chains and ropes. He had never learned it. But there was a way.

Richard dropped Tai to the floor, where she curled up instinctively, sobbing against her hands.

"We can rape her, Drekanov said quietly. "We can disfigure her. We can remove her limbs and leave her a torso, helpless and immobile."

"I bet she's a virgin," Melissa said contemptuously. Vincent twisted his hand, feeling the edge of the cuff cut into his wrist. "Frigid little Wute princess, thinking her piece of shit country and its stuffy hypocritical frigid traditions are worth a damn." Melissa walked over to the shaking ball that was Tai, and rolled her over with her foot. Tai's wide-eyed, blood stained face stared up at Melissa.

"You know what you Kiseragi's do to prisoners of war?" Melissa asked, flexing her fingers. All the Turks wore black, fingerless gloves. Vincent twisted his wrist again, feeling the edge of the cuff score against the base of his thumb.

Tai cried, but didn't speak. She wasn't prepared for this, Vincent knew. She had been raised as a favoured child, delicate, beautiful, pure.

"Weak," Drekanov said by his ear. Vincent twisted to look at him. There was blood dripping down his hand. The cuff was still holding him tight.

"With the men, they slice off their balls," Melissa swished her hand sharply through the air. "With the women, they cut out their clit."

"If you give us the information," Drekanov whispered into his ear. "The war will be cut short. The ending is inevitable, we are winning, and will continue to win. But we can save many lives, Shin-Ra and Wutaian, if you give us the information to let us strike quickly and efficiently."

Melissa pulled out a knife. It was a narrow blade, and a long handle. A precision instrument.

"We are very efficient people, Mr. Valentine. We dislike wasting our time on uncooperative elements."

Vincent twisted, bringing his leg up sharply to slam into Drekanov, sending the Turk crashing against the bars of the cell. The Turk leader looked shocked for a second, but rolled sideways to dodge Vincent's second kick. Then Richard was on him, slamming him against the bars of the cell with a yell of rage. Vincent tried to fight back, but without his arms he was quickly disabled. He stood mute under the pounding.

"Enough," Drekanov said. He was straightening his tie, and looking thoughtfully at Vincent. Tai had sat up, her hands cupped over her nose. Her cries had faded to an indistinct whimpering.

His handcuffs were as tight as before. Only one way out.

_Forgive me, Princess! I can't stand to see what they will do to you!_

"The princes of the House of Kiseragi are the commanders," Vincent said. "Prince Han Kiseragi is in charge of infantry. He is currently in the south of Wutai, training merchants and fishermen into becoming soldiers. Prince Akira Kiseragi is the master of ninja, I do not know where he is currently located. Many of his ninja have been killed, and he may be regrouping. Prince - "

Drekanov was smiling. Richard had whipped out a dictaphone and was recording the litany. Melissa was holding the knife, looking vaguely disappointed.

Tai had her head bowed, her blood stained hands pressed against her face. Vincent looked away from her. He didn't want to see her eyes.

Cid contemplated the wreckage of Midgar, with the twenty or so scum bags he had managed to dig up at his back. Spitting out the butt of his cigarette, he reached into his pocket for another.

"Chuck one of those my way?" a thin, carnivorous looking man held out a hand, revealing the skinny wrist that accompanied it. Cid flipped him a cigarette, sighing as he eyed the track marks that suggested a nicotine fix was the least of the things the man would be needing.

"A'right, you fuckers. We want big ass metal poles, chains, the kind that they use on cranes and shit like that, wheels... everything that you think might fit into a pulley system, okay? In fact, shit, if you find a salvageable crane, that'd be fucking perfect. This is gonna be heavy, so I want four to a team, and everyone hauling ass. We're going to stick to sector one, but I want you to make a damn good sweep of it, so spread out. Got it?"

Various grunts, and a desultory pairing off ensured. Cid dragged hard on his cigarette, and pointed at three of the more intelligent looking ones.

"You. Come with me."

He pushed a twisted metal framework aside and stepped through the triangular shaped hole that was all that was left of the sector one gate.

It was oddly beautiful. Vines climbed over everything, their organic curves contrasting with the jagged edges of fallen buildings. Trees thrust up through smashed windows, their branches curling amongst broken train tracks. Little light penetrated this far down into the great mass, but here and there shafts of moonlight highlighted a single leaf, or the remains of a neon shop sign. Fallen leaves had made a thin layer of slimy mulch that slicked everything, and made progress dangerous and difficult. Fungi grew in this mulch, shadowy bulges that scattered tree trunks and grew in fairy rings on fallen debris from the plate.

Cid flicked on his torch, and shone it from side to side. Natural tunnels had been made where bits of debris had fallen diagonally against one another, standing up to the pressure of wreckage that had fallen on top of them. Other places looked less solid, struts and supports groaning under the weight from above, weakened by the insidious grip of ivy and undermined by tree roots.

"Be careful lads," Cid cautioned. "Any false move and the whole fucking lot'll come down on our heads, and that's the last thing we want."

"How're we supposed to remove anything without it bringing the house down?" demanded one of his group.

Cid considered. It was a valid point.

"We'll fucking well climb this shit heap then, won't we?"

So they climbed, monkey like, using trees and pipes indiscriminately. No harder than scaling scaffolding, Cid thought, inhaling cigarette smoke. He hauled himself through the gap in a giant fan, one of its blades snapped off.

There was more light up here, and it haloed the body, half crushed under concrete. Cid met the one eye hole left, the other shattered into oblivion, and cursed. Parchment skin still stretched here and there, but much of it had been eaten away by maggots. Maggots that still squirmed in what remained of his brain. The entire mess had splurged out from the broken skull and stained the concrete on which he stood.

"Fuck."

"Problem, boss?" The next man through glanced at the corpse with complete lack of interest.

Cid stubbed out his cigarette and flipped the butt into the darkness. "None at all. Let's keep a fucking move on."

More dead bodies showed up as they climbed, some mostly whole, others in pieces. The worst was a fall of bricks, dusty and old, with a tiny bone-white hand sticking up from it: a skeletal child grasping for freedom.

Finally they reached the surface, and Cid sighed with relief. It had been a long climb, and his breath was rattling in his lungs.

"You and you. See that pole sticking up there? Grab that fucker and toss it down the side of this shit heap. Anything that breaks was too flimsy for our purposes anyhow - we want tough shit. Got it?"

They moved to obey. Cid lit a cigarette, and smoked it slowly. It had taken them a good few hours to climb this far. The sun was rising. It streaked the sky with watermelon red and honey gold. Cid coughed. He should've brought some water with him - not that there _was_ any water.

He'd read somewhere that in the past people had prayed for rain, cooking up elaborate rituals that involved dances and sacrifices. He wished that he could do something like that, instead of relying on cycles of evaporation and wind movement. They lived by the fucking ocean for Bahamut's sake! Shouldn't there be plenty of rain coming off that thing?

Speaking of Bahamut...

He swirled his spear over his head and examined the red materia set into its shaft. He wouldn't put it past any of the fuckers he had brought up here to mug him and run off with these rocks. Swap 'em for heroin or some such. He rubbed its surface thoughtfully. Shame he couldn't exchange it for a good rain storm.

..._Call me..._

The voice was deep bass, with gravel in it. Cid jerked in surprise and covered it with a cough. What the fuck?

_...Call me!_

"No fucking way!" he snarled in an undertone. "What bollocks is this, anyhow? Voices in my head? You little green men from Andromeda or what?"

_I am Bahamut. Mortal, we aided you in your war, after your enemies sought to destroy the source of all life. Now you must aid us. Call me!_

"You're Bahamut? I don't fucking be- "

The world stripped away from him. He staggered, gasping for breath as for a moment his stomach left his body and floated somewhere above his head. Then his legs twisted sideways and he fell down - smacking into the ground elbow first.

"Shit! You're supposed to transport me the fuck outta there before all the bloody ground shaking goes on! Don't you know this is a hazardous shit heap we're on? The whole fucker could landslide!"

_Spare me your whines._

"Odin blast it!"

_Odin is currently occupied_.

Cid opened one eye and looked up. The great dragon spiralled lazily above him. Apparently Midgar had shifted and twisted around as Bahamut had emerged from whatever realm it was the Gods came from. Fresh cracks and rubble littered everything.

"Since when did summons start back chatting? I thought we were just meant to point you at someone and say bang!"

_Be quiet, Mortal._

Cid spluttered into silence. His gang of junkies had vanished. He didn't really blame them. He glared around him for a moment, trying to find where his cigarette had rolled away to. No luck there.

"What the fuck d'ya want, anyhow?"

_One of our brethren has decided to walk the world of Mortals once more. He poses immense danger to the children of the Lifestream. If his destructive force is left unbalanced and unbridled, the world could end._

"Great. Another evil psycho out to destroy the world."

_Good and evil are irrelevant concepts. There is only balance. But it is not yet time for the world to end. Humans are not ready to go the way of the Ancients._

"Damn straight I ain't heading to the Promised Land anytime soon! So which one of you fuckers has decided to gate crash our party?"

_You Mortals have called him Ryuu-hi, the Sun Dragon._

"Never heard of him."

_His name has not been heard, even in oaths, for some three hundred years. Until a sect was revived fourteen years ago. They called him, but he had no channel into this realm. Finally he decided to use that of his one time mate, Leviathan, the Sea Serpent. He destroyed it in the process. Now Leviathan has no way through, and Ryuu-hi is trapped on the Mortal realm. If he dies, he will become part of the Lifestream. That is not a satisfactory arrangement._

"Why not? Sounds like this fucking hot head could use a session cooling down."

_His energy would be absorbed and transmuted into other forms of life. This would leave our realm unbalanced. Leviathan would lose her one time mate. She would be unhappy with that._

"Huh. Don't want the Gods to cry, that ain't good. So what's the plan."

_We find him, before he destroys the world. And before he is destroyed._

"What in Odin's name could destroy a God?"

_There are many forces in this Universe that you remain unaware of, little human. Natural laws apply to Gods, as they apply to all things. We can manipulate them better than you can, that is all._

"Still, if it's God versus world, my money's on the fucking God. What do we do when we've found the asshole?"

_We, little human?_

"You said we had to bloody aid you!"

_We need you to call us, that is all. You are the first. I cannot create a channel by myself. More Gods need to be brought into the world._

"We need to summon Gods?"

_Yes._

"Well... lemme see... there's Shiva, Ifrit... Titan..."

_There are many hundreds of Gods, Mortal. Some have never appeared on your realm before. Alexander. Siren. Gilgamesh. We need thirteen to create a channel. That is all._

"Well, damn. You came to the right guy. I know the people with the summons."

_Call the other Gods. I will go to find my brother._

Bahamut flapped his wings, and the air current knocked Cid back to the ground. He groaned, rubbing his elbow, and watching the dot that had been a dragon shrink and vanish.

"Damn all Gods to Hell," he muttered to himself as he stood back up.

The sun had risen completely above the horizon, and only a streak of deep maroon fading into pale blue gave the sky shape. Midgar glittered, hard edged, in the morning sun.

"I'm never going to fucking get down from here," he groaned.

As he started down the side of the mountain that had once been a city, he noticed a body slumped in the uprooted triangle of a water pipe and a cross beam. He walked over.

No hair, no skin. A few charred strings of muscle still strung together some joints. The eye holes were a mess of maggots. A long skeleton, the hand still gripped around a slender weapon.

"I'll be fucked."

He bent down and picked up the ElectroMag Rod and twirled it a couple of times. Then he pressed the button.

"Fuck!"

He picked himself up again, cursing, and waited for his vision to come back into focus. Apparently the Turk had been quite happy to let his weapon short-circuit anyone who touched it. Cid stuck the thing next to his spear, and looked down at the grinning skull.

"Couldn't wipe that smirk off even now, could ya, you asshole?" Cid sighed. "Damn Turks. Look at this bloody world you left us with!"

The blank skeletal grin suggested no remorse. Cid shook his head and used his spear to dig out the support for the cross beam. It crashed down on top of the skeleton, in a cloud of dust and debris. The surface Cid was standing on vibrated ominously.

"I'll be seeing ya, kid."

He hopped over the edge and swung down from pipe to tree branch, indiscriminately.

Behind him, the dust settled gently.


End file.
